s^- 


THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY,! 
Princeton,  N.  J.   '  f 


From  the  PUBLISHER. 

amilton,  James,  1814-1867. 
fe  in  earnest 


LIFE  IN  EARNEST. 


SIX    LECTURES, 


CHRISTIAN  ACTIVITY  AND  ARDOR. 


y  ■ 

BY  THE  REV.  JAMES  HAMILTON, 

AUTHOU  OF  "  HARP    ON    THE    WILLOWS,"  ETC. 


NOT   SLOTHFUL    IN    BUSINESS  ; 
FERVENT   IN  SPIRIT  ; 
SERVING  THE    LORD. 

Rom.  sii.  11. 


NEW    YORK: 
ROBERT  CARTER,  58  CANAL  STREET, 

AND  PITTSBURG,  56  MARKET  STREET. 
1847. 


CONTENTS. 

LECTURE  I. 

Page. 
Industry 21 

LECTURE  n. 
Industry 41 

LECTURE  III. 
An  Eye  to  the  Lord  Jesus 66 

LECTURE  IV. 
A  Fervent  Spirit 86 

LECTURE  V. 
The  Threefold  Cord 107 

LECTURE  VI. 
A  Word  to  Each  and  to  All — Conclusion 131 


TO   THE 


KIRK-SESSION  AND  CONGREGATION 

OF   THE 

NATIONAL  SCOTCH  CHURCH, 
REGENT    SaUARE. 


My  dear  Friends  : — 

It  sometimes  adds  to  the  interest, 
and  even  to  the  usefulness  of  a  book,  to 
know  the  reason  of  its  publication.  I  may 
therefore  mention  in  the  outset,  that  it  is 
for  your  sakes  that  the  following  pages  ap- 
pear in  print.  As  all  my  efforts  can  not 
secure  that  amount  of  pastoral  intercourse 
for  which  I  long,  I  felt  desirous  of  sending 


6  INTRODUCTION. 

to  your  several  homes  a  word  in  season  at 
the  opening  of  this  year  ;  and,  as  an  ap- 
propriate remembrancer  at  such  a  time,  I 
have  selected  the  following  familiar  lectures. 
You  now  receive  them  in  nearly  the  same 
homely  guise  in  which  you  first  made  their 
acquaintance  a  few  sabbaths  ago.*  For  the 
directness  of  the  style  and  the  plainness  of 
the  illustrations,  I  do  not  apologize.  They 
are  not  more  a  natural  propensity  than  the 
result  of  conscientious  conviction  ;t  for  as 
I  can  not  be  persuaded  that,  in  matters  of 
taste,  anything  is  eloquent  which  does  not 
answer  the  end  in  view,  nor  thai  in  theolo- 

•  They  were  delivered  as  part  of  a  course  of  lec- 
tures on  the  Romans,  on  the  morning  and  evening  of 
sabbaths,  November  17  and  24,  and  December  1, 1844. 
Except  the  fourth,  of  which  there  were  no  written 
notes,  they  appear  with  few  retrenchments  or  altera- 
tions. 

t  2  Cor.  iii.  12 ;  Matt.  xiii.  3. 


INTRODUCTION.  7 

gy  anything  is  sublime  which  is  not  scrip- 
tural :  so  I  can  not  think  that,  in  preach- 
ing, anything  is  out  of  place  which  puts  the 
truth  in  its  proper  place — in  the  memories 
and  the  hearts  of  the  hearers — nor  that  any- 
thing is  mean  which  can  trace  its  pedigree 
back  to  the  Mount  of  Beatitudes.  But 
while  I  offer  no  apology  for  the  style  of 
these  lectures,  I  tender  my  cordial  thanks 
to  those  hearers  whose  earnestness,  or  in- 
tellectual elevation,  or  personal  kindness, 
has  made  them  listen  so  willingly  to  a  mode 
of  preaching  not  the  less  distasteful  because 
it  can  plead  exalted  precedents  ;  and  I  own 
that  it  has  been  not  the  least  comfort  of  my 
ministry,  that  among  yourselves,  preaching 
like  the  following  specimen  has  found  so 
many  attentive  hearers.  There  is  only  one 
satisfaction  greater — the  belief  that  many  are 
applying  practically  what  most  hear  so  pa- 
tiendy. 


8  INTRODUCTION. 

And  now,  dear  brethren,  were  it  not  the 
restraining  thought  that  colder  eyes  than 
yours  may  look  upon  these  pages,  there  are 
many  things  I  would  like  to  say.  I  would 
like  to  commemorate  some  of  the  mercies 
which  have  crowned  the  three  and  a  half 
years  during  which  we  have  worshipped 
together  ;  and  I  would  like  to  give  you 
some  idea  of  my  own  affection  for  you.  To 
the  elders  for  counsel  never  asked  nor  adopt- 
ed in  vain — to  both  elders  and  deacons  for 
days  and  portions  of  the  night  devoted  to 
labors  of  love,  which  but  for  their  pains- 
taking could  never  have  been  accomplished 
— to  the  self-denying  teachers  of  the  sabbath- 
school  and  of  the  week-evening  class — and 
to  all  who  have  contributed  their  willing  aid 
in  various  schemes  of  usefulness — I  would 
tender  a  pastor's  warmest  gratitude.  And 
I  would  Hke  to  mention  with  gratitude  to 
God  two  things  which  have  made  my  own 


INTRODUCTION.  9 

heart  often  glad — the  harmony  of  our  church, 
and  the  happiness  of  your  abodes.  Wherev- 
er I  see  innocent  or  holy  joy,  I  try  to  make 
some  of  it  my  own  ;  and  I  believe  that  most 
of  my  earthly  happiness  of  late  has  been  a 
transfusion  from  your  joy.  Seldom  does  a 
day  transpire  without  seeing  as  much  in- 
door comfort  and  tranquillity — as  much 
mutual  affection  of  heads  of  families,  and 
parents  and  children,  and  brothers  and  sis- 
ters— with  so  evident  an  aspect  of  God's 
blessing  on  many  homes,  as  are  an  unspeak- 
able delight  to  me.  Does  not  God's  good- 
ness in  this  respect  often  strike  yourselves, 
and  make  you  sing  the  toenty-third  psalm  ? 

"  My  table  thou  hast  furnished 
la  presence  of  my  foes  ; 
My  head  thou  dost  with  oil  anoint. 
And  my  cup  overflows. 

"  Goodness  and  mercy  all  my  life 
Shall  surely  follow  me  : 
And  in  God's  house  for  evermore 
My  dwelling-place  shall  be." 


10  INTRODUCTION. 

And  in  some  measure  the  result  of  domes- 
tic piety  and  peace,  I  here  record  with  grat- 
itude  our  congregational  harmony.  Sure 
enough  we  have  hitherto  dwelt  together  in 
unity  ;  and  as  I  can  truly  say  for  my  breth- 
ren, your  office-bearers,  that  our  anxiety  is 
your  edification,  so  has  your  "  order"  been 
our  "joy." 

But  while  the  acknowledgment  of  God's 
goodness  is  the  delightful  employment  of  a 
closing  year,  it  is  no  less  incumbent,  with 
an  opening  year,  to  consider  what  more  we 
can  do  for  the  God  of  our  mercies  in  the 
days  or  months  to  come.  As  a  church,  we 
have  congregational  duties,  and  each  mem- 
ber of  the  church  nas  personal  duties.  Let 
your  minister  remind  you  of  some  of  these. 

1.  Let  this  new  year  be  a  year  of  greater 
activity.  Be  dihgent  in  your  proper  cal- 
ling, in  seeking  personal  improvement,  and 
in  doing  good.     Ply  your  daily  calling  in  a 


INTRODUCTION.  11 

Christian  spirit,  doing  nothing  by  constraint 
or  grudgingly,  but  adorning  the  doctrine  of 
God  your  Savior  by  your  patient,  sprightly, 
and  thoroughgoing  industry.  Seek  person- 
al improvement.  Give  yourselves  to  the 
reading  of  instructive  and  religious  books  ; 
and  when  friends  meet,  let  them  strive  to 
give  the  conversation  a  profitable  turn,  and 
one  which  may  minister  to  the  use  of  edify- 
ing. The  Young  Men's  Society  is  an  in- 
centive to  studjii  and  an  outlet  for  the  re- 
sults of  reading;  and  those  young  men  who 
are  desirous  of  mutual  improvement  should 
all  be  members  of  it.  Engage  in  some  di- 
rect effort  to  do  good.  An  earnest  and 
willing  spirit  will  find  or  make  a  field  of 
usefulness  for  itself.  Ascertaining,  in  the 
course  of  their  visits  to  the  poor,  that  in 
many  families  the  older  girls  could  read 
little  or  none,  and  were  kept  at  home  du- 
ring the  day,  attending  to  the  younger  chil- 


12  INTRODUCTION. 

dren,  a  few  ladies  opened  a  class  at  five  in 
the  afternoon,  to  teach  these  girls  to  read 
and  write,  and  undertook  to  conduct  it  per- 
sonally. In  a  short  time  the  room  was  full, 
and  there  are  now  about  seventy  of  these 
young  people  learning  to  read  the  Word  of 
God  intelligently,  who,  but  for  this  self- 
denying  experiment,  must  have  grown  up 
in  ignorance.  We  know  of  similar  efforts 
on  a  less  extended  scale.  And  in  the  same 
spirit,  several  local  pray^-meetings  have 
been  opened,  and  are  attended  by  people 
not  likely  to  have  found  their  way  to  any 
other  place  of  worship.  The  diligence  of 
district  visiters  has  been  productive  of  much 
obvious  benefit  in  bringing  several  back  to 
the  forsaken  sanctuary,  and  the  affectionate 
assiduity  of  the  sabbath-school  teachers  hag 
in  several  hopeful  instances  reaped  its  pres- 
ent reward.  Brethren,  be  ambitious  of 
doing  good.     Seek  to  leave  the  world  the 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

better  for  your  sojourn  in  it.  Whatever  you 
attempt,  endeavor  to  do  it  so  thoroughly, 
and  follow  it  up  so  resolutely,  that  the  re- 
sult shall  be  ascertained  and  evident.  And 
in  your  attempts  at  usefulness,  be  not  only 
conscientious  but  enthusiastic.  Love  the 
work.  Redeem  the  time.  Remember  that 
the  Lord  is  at  hand. 

2.  Let  this  new  year  be  a  year  of  greater 
liberality »  There  are  some  objects  to  which 
of  late  you  have  given  very  largely  ;  and 
there  are  those  among  you  who  give  to 
every  object  freely,  and  with  a  self-denying 
generosity.  But  by  a  little  systematic  fore- 
thought and  contrivance,  begun  now  and 
carried  through  the  year,  many  might  dou- 
ble their  contributions  without  at  all  abridg- 
ing their  real  enjoyments.  The  maxim  "  I 
can  do  without  it" — if  all  Regent  Square 
acted  on  it  for  a  single  year,  might  build  a 
school  or  send  out  a  missionary.     If  all  the 


14  INTRODUCTION. 

money  which  you  children  spend  on  cakes 
and  toys,  and  which  we  grown-up  people 
spend  on  playthings  and  parties,  were  put 
into  the  Lord's  treasury,  we  should  have  as 
much  as  we  wanted  for  all  our  congrega- 
tional purposes,  and  a  great  deal  over  to 
help  our  neighbors.  And  while  some  are 
striving  how  much  they  can  do,  let  others 
strive  how  much  they  can  give  to  the  cause 
of  Christ  this  year.  Those  who  excel  in 
the  one  are  likely  to  excel  in  the  other ;  for 
just  as  those  who  have  too  little  faith  to 
give,  have  usually  too  little  fervor  to  work, 
so  the  hardest  workers  are  usually  the  lar- 
gest givers. 

3.  Let  this  be  a  year  of  greater  spiritU" 
alky.  As  the  holy  Joseph  Alleine  wrote 
from  Ilchester  prison  to  his  flock  at  Taun- 
ton, "  Beloved  Christians,  live  like  your- 
selves ;  let  the  world  see  that  the  promises 
of  God,  and  privileges  of  the  gospel,  are  not 


INTRODUCTION.  15 

empty  sounds,  or  a  mere  crack.  Let  the 
heavenly  cheerfulness,  and  the  restless  dili- 
gence, and  the  holy  raisedness  of  your  con- 
versations, prove  the  reality,  and  excellency, 
and  beauty  of  your  religion  to  the  world." 
Aim  at  an  elevated  life.  Seek  to  live  so 
near  to  God,  that  you  shall  not  be  over- 
whelmed by  those  amazing  sorrows  which 
you  may  soon  encounter,  nor  surprised  by 
that  disease  which  may  come  upon  you  in 
a  moment,  suddenly.  Let  prayer  never  be 
a  form.  Always  realize  it  as  an  approach 
to  the  living  God  for  some  specific  purpose  ; 
and  learn  to  watch  for  the  returns  of  prayer. 
Let  the  Word  of  God  dwell  in  you  richly. 
That  sleep  will  be  sweet  and  that  awaking 
hallowed  where  a  text  of  Scripture,  or  a 
stanza  of  a  spiritual  song,  imbues  the  last 
thoughts  of  consciousness.  Occasionally 
read  the  biography  of  some  eminent  Chris- 
tian, such  as  Doddridge,  or  Pearce,  or  Mar- 


«16  INTRODUCTION. 

tyn,  or  Fletcher,  or  Charles  of  Bala,  or  R. 
M'Cheyne  :  for  it  will  show  how  much  of 
Christ's  presence  may  be  enjoyed  here  on 
earth,  and  may  stir  you  up  to  a  more  loving, 
devout,  and  watchful  life.  Do  not  forsake 
any  of  the  stated  assemblies  for  worship ; 
and  let  friends,  when  they  meet,  often  con- 
verse on  those  things  which  may  edify  one 
another.  See  that  you  make  progress  ;  see 
that  when  the  year  is  closing,  you  have  not 
all  the  evil  tempers  and  infirmities  of  char- 
acter which  presently  afflict  you  ;  but  see  to 
it  that  if  God  grant  you  to  sit  down  on  the 
Ebenezer  of  another  closing  year,  you  may 
be  able  to  look  back  on  radiant  spots  where 
you  enjoyed  seasons  of  spiritual  refreshing 
and  victories  over  enemies  heretofore  too 
strong  for  you.  Happy  new  year !  if  its 
path  were  so  bright  and  its  progress  so 
vivid,  that  in  a  future  retrospect  your  eye 
could  fix  on   many  a  Bethel  and  Peniel 


INTRODUCTION.  17 

along  its  track,  and  your  grateful  memory- 
could  say,  "  Yonder  is  the  grave  where  I 
buried  a  long-besetting  sin,  and  that  stone 
of  memorial  marks  where  God  made  me  to 
triumph  over  a  fierce  temptation  through 
Jesus  Christ.  Yon  sabbath  was  the  top  of 
the  hill  where  I  clasped  the  cross,  and  the 
burden  fell  off  my  back  ;  and  that  commu- 
nion was  the  land  of  Beulah,  where  I  saw 
the  far-off  land  and  the  king  in  his  beauty." 


"  Come,  let  ns  anew  our  journey  pursue. 
Roll  round  with  the  year, 
And  never  stand  still  till  the  Master  appear. 

*'  His  adorable  tv^ll  let  us  gladly  fulfil, 
And  our  talents  improve, 
By  the  patience  of  hope  and  the  labor  of  love. 

"  0  that  each  in  the  day  of  his  coming  may  say, 
'  I  have  fought  my  way  through  ; 
I  have  finished  the  work  thou  didst  give  me  to  do.' 

"  0  that  each  from  his  Lord  may  receive  the  glad  word, 
*  Well  and  faithfully  done : 
Enter  into  my  joy,  and  sit  down  on  my  throne.'  "^ 
2* 


18  INTRODUCTION. 

My  dear  friends,  it  is  a  blessed  thing  to 
know  the  Savior — to  feel  that  your  soul  is 
safe.  You  have  been  in  a  ship  when  it  en- 
tered the  harbor,  and  you  have  noticed  the 
different  looks  of  the  passengers  as  they 
turned  their  eyes  ashore.  There  was  one 
who,  that  he  might  not  lose  a  moment's 
time,  had  got  everything  ready  for  landing 
long  ago  ;  and  now  he  smiles  and  beckons 
to  yon  party  on  the  pier,  who,  in  their  turn, 
are  so  eager  to  meet  him,  that  they  almost 
press  over  the  margin  of  the  quay :  and  no 
sooner  is  the  gangway  thrown  across,  than 
he  has  hold  of  the  arm  of  one,  and  another 
is  triumphant  on  his  shoulder,  and  all  the 
rest  are  leaping  before  and  after  him  on 
their  homeward  way.  But  there  was  an- 
other who  showed  no  alacrity.  He  gazed 
with  pensive  eye  on  the  nearer  coast,  and 
seemed  to  grudge  that  the  trip  was  over. 
He  was  a  stranger,  going  among  strangers ; 


INTRODUCTION  19 

and  though  sometimes  during  the  voyage 
he  had  a  silent  hope  that  something  unex- 
pected might  occur,  and  that  some  friendly 
face  might  recognise  him  in  regions  where 
he  was  going  an  alien  and  an  adventurer — 
no  such  welcoming  face  is  tl|ere  ;  and  with 
reluctant  steps  he  quits  the  vessel,  and  com- 
mits himself  to  the  unknown  country.  And 
now  that  every  one  else  has  disembarked, 
who  is  this  unhappy  man  whom  they  have 
brought  on  deck,  and,  groaning  in  his  heavy 
cjiains,  whom  they  are  conducting  to  the 
dreaded  shore  ?  Alas  !  he  is  a  felon  and 
a  runaway,  whom  they  are  bringing  back  to 
take  his  trial  there  :  and  no  wonder  he  is 
loath  to  land. 

Now,  dear  brethren,  our  ship  is  sailing 
fast.  We  shall  soon  hear  the  rasping  on 
the  shallows,  and  the  commotion  overhead, 
which  bespeak  the  port  in  view.  When  it 
comes  to  that,  how  shall  you  feel  ?  Are  you 


20  INTRODUCTION. 

St  Stranger,  or  a  convict,  or  are  you  going 
home  ?  Can  you  say,  *'  I  know  whom  I 
have  believed  ?"  Have  you  a  Friend  with- 
in the  veil  ?  And  however  much  you  may 
enjoy  the  voyage,  and  however  much  you 
may  like  your  fellow-passengers,  does  your 
heart  sometimes  leap  up  at  the  prospect  of 
seeing  Jesus  as  he  is,  and  so  being  ever 
with  the  Lord  ? 

The  Lord  send  you  a  happy,  a  holy,  and 
a  useful  year  !  Accept  this  little  token  of 
your  pastor's  wish  to  help  your  faith  and 
joy  ;  and  believe  me 

Your  ever-affectionate  minister, 

James  Hamilton. 
January  1,  1345. 


LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 


LECTURE    I. 

INDUSTRY. 

'Not  slothfulin  business." — Romans  xii.  11. 

Two  things  are  very  certain — that  we 
have  all  got  a  work  to  do,  and  are  all,  more 
or  less,  indisposed  to  do  it :  in  other  words, 
every  man  has  a  calling,  and  most  men  have 
a  greater  or  less  amount  of  indolence,  which 
disinclines  them  for  the  work  of  that  calling. 
Many  men  would  have  liked  the  gospel  all 
the  better,  if  it  had  entirely  repealed  the 
sentence,  "  In  the  sweat  of  thy  brow  shalt 
thou  eat  thy  bread ;"  had  it  proclaimed  a 
final  emancipation  from  industry,  and  turn- 


22  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

ed  our  world  into  a  merry  playground  or 
luxurious  dormitory.  But  this  is  not  what 
the  gospel  does.  It  does  not  abolish  la- 
bor ;  it  gives  it  a  new  and  a  nobler  aspect. 
The  gospel  abolishes  labor  much  in  the 
same  way  as  it  abolishes  death  :  it  leaves 
the  thing,  but  changes  its  nature.  The 
gospel  sweetens  the  believer's  work :  it 
gives  him  new  motives  for  performing  it. 
The  gospel  dignifies  toil ;  it  transforms  it 
from  the  drudgery  of  the  workhouse  or  the 
penitentiary  to  the  affectionate  offices  and 
joyful  services  of  the  fireside  and  the  fam- 
ily circle.  It  asks  us  to  do  for  the  sake 
of  Christ  many  things  which  we  were  once 
compelled  to  bear  as  a  portion  of  the  curse, 
and  which  worldly  men  perform  for  selfish 
and  secondary  reasons.  "  Whatsoever  ye 
do  in  word  or  deed,  do  all  in  the  name  of 
the  Lord  Jesus.  Wives,  submit  yourselves 
unto  your  own  husbands,  as  it  is  fit  in  the 
Lord.  Children,  obey  your  parents  in  all 
things,  for  this  is  well-pleasing  unto  the 
Lord.     Servants,  obey  in  all   things  your 


INDUSTRY.  23 

masters  according  to  the  flesh,  not  with  eye- 
service,  as  men-pleasers,  but  in  singleness 
of  heart,  fearing  God  ;  and  whatsoever  ye 
do,  do  it  heartily  as  to  the  Lord  and  not 
unto  men,  knowing  that  of  the  Lord  ye 
shall  receive  the  reward  of  the  inheritance, 
for  ye  serve  the  Lord  Christ."  The  gos- 
pel has  not  superseded  diligence.  "  Study 
to  be  quiet  and  to  do  your  own  business, 
and  to  work  with  your  own  hands,  as  we 
commanded  you.  If  any  man  will  not  work, 
neither  let  him  eat."  It  is  mentioned  as 
almost  the  climax  of  sin — "  And  withal 
they  learn  to  be  idle,  wandering  about  from 
house  to  house  ;  and  not  only  idle,  but  tat- 
tlers also,  and  busy-bodies,  speaking  things 
which  they  ought  not :"  as,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  healthy  and  right-conditioned 
state  of  a  soul  is — "  Not  slothful  in  busi- 
ness, fervent  in  spirit,  serving  the  Lord." 

I.  This  precept  is  violated  by  those  who 
have  no  business  at  all.  By  the  bounty  of 
God's  providence,  some  are  in  such  a  situ- 
ation, that  they  do  not  need  to  toil  for  a 


24  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

subsistence  ;  they  go  to  bed  when  tney 
please,  and  get  up  when  they  can  sleep  no 
longer,  and  they  do  with  themselves  what- 
ever they  like  ;  and  though  we  dare  not  say 
that  theirs  is  the  happiest  life,  it  certainly  is 
the  easiest.  But  it  will  neither  be  a  lawful 
life  nor  a  happy  one,  unless  it  have  some 
work  in  hand,  some  end  in  view.  Those 
of  you  who  are  familiar  with  the  shore,  may 
have  seen  attached  to  the  inundated  reef  a 
creature — whether  a  plant  or  animal  you 
could  scarcely  tell — rooted  to  the  rock  as  a 
plant  might  be,  and  twirling  its  long  ten- 
tacula  as  an  animal  would  do.  This  plant- 
animal's  life  is  somewhat  monotonous,  for 
it  has  nothing  to  do  but  grow  and  twirl  its 
feelers,  float  in  the  tide,  or  fold  itself  up  on 
its  foot-stalk  when  that  tide  has  receded,  for 
months  and  years  together.  Now,  would  it 
not  be  very  dismal  to  be  transformed  into  a 
zoophyte  ?  Would  it  not  be  an  awful  pun- 
ishment, with  your  human  soul  still  in  you, 
to  be  anchored  to  a  rock,  able  to  do  nothing 
but  spin  about  your  arms  or  fold  them  up 


INDUSTRY.  25 

again,  and  knowing  no  variety,  except  when 
the  receding  ocean  left  you  in  the  daylight, 
or  the  returning  waters  plunged  you  into  the 
green  depths  again,  or  the  sweeping  tide 
brought  you  the  prize  of  a  young  periwin- 
kle or  an  invisible  star-fish  ?  But  what  bet- 
ter is  the  life  you  are  spontaneously  lead- 
ing ?  What  greater  variety  marks  your  ex- 
istence, than  chequers  the  life  of  the  sea- 
anemone  ?  Does  not  one  day  float  over 
you  after  another,  just  as  the  tide  floats  over 
it,  and  find  you  much  the  same,  and  leave 
you  vegetating  still  ?  Are  you  more  useful  ? 
What  real  service  to  others  did  you  render 
yesterday  ?  What  tangible  amount  of  occu- 
pation did  you  overtake  in  the  one  hundred 
and  sixty-eight  hours  of  which  last  week 
consisted  ?  And  what  higher  end  in  living 
have  you  than  that  polypus  ?  You  go 
through  certain  mechanical  routines  of  ri- 
sing, and  dressing,  and  visiting,  and  dining, 
and  going  to  sleep  again  ;  and  are  a  little 
roused  from  your  usual  lethargy  by  the  ar- 
rival of  a  friend,  or  the  effort  needed  to 
3 


LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 


write  some  note  of  ceremony.  But  as  it 
courtesies  in  the  waves,  and  vibrates  its 
exploring  arms,  and  gorges  some  dainty  me- 
dusa, the  sea-anemone  goes  through  nearly 
the  same  round  of  pursuits  and  enjoyments 
with  your  intelligent  and  immortal  self.  Is 
this  a  life  for  a  rational  and  responsible 
creature  to  lead  ? 

II.  But  this  precept  is  also  violated  by 
those  who  are  diligent  in  trifles — whose  ac- 
tivity is  a  busy  idleness.  You  may  be  very 
earnest  in  a  pursuit  which  is  utterly  beneath 
your  prerogative  as  an  intelligent  creature, 
and  your  high  destination  as  an  immortal 
being.  Pursuits  which  are  perfectly  proper 
in  creatures  destitute  of  reason,  may  be  very 
culpable  in  those  who  not  only  have  reason, 
but  are  capable  of  enjoyments  above  the 
range  of  reason  itself.  We  this  instant  im- 
agined a  man  retaining  all  his  consciousness 
transformed  into  a  zoophyte.  Let  us  im- 
agine another  similar  transformation  :  fancy 
that  instead  of  a  polypus  you  were  changed 
into  a  swallow.    There  you  have  a  creature 


INDUSTRY.  27 

abundantly  busy,  up  in  the  early  morning, 
for  ever  on  the  wing,  as  graceful  and  spright- 
ly in  his  flight  as  tasteful  in  the  haunts 
which  he  selects.  Look  at  him,  zigzagging 
over  the  clover-field,  skimming  the  limpid 
lake,  whisking  round  the  steeple,  or  dan- 
cing gayly  in  the  sky.  Behold  him  in  high 
spirits,  shrieking  out  his  ecstasy  as  he  has 
bolted  a  dragon-fly,  or  darted  through  the 
arrow-slits  of  the  old  turret,  or  performed 
some  other  feat  of  hirundine  agility.  And 
notice  how  he  pays  his  morning  visits — 
alighting  elegantly  on  some  housetop,  and 
twittering  politely  by  turns  to  the  swallow 
on  either  side  of  him,  and  after  five  min- 
utes' conversation,  off  and  away  to  call  for 
his  friend  at  the  castle.  And  now  he  is 
gone  upon  his  travels — gone  to  spend  the 
winter  at  Rome  or  Naples,  to  visit  Egypt 
or  the  Holy  Land,  or  perform  some  more 
recherche  pilgrimage  to  Spain  or  the  coast 
of  Barbary.  And  when  he  comes  home 
next  April,  sure  enough  he  has  been  abroad : 
charming  climate — highly  delighted  with  the 


23  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

cicadas  in  Italy,  and  the  bees  on  Hymettus 
— locusts  in  Africa  rather  scarce  this  sea- 
son ;  but,  upon  the  whole,  much  pleased 
with  his  trip,  and  returned  in  high  health 
and  spirits.  Now,  dear  friends,  this  is  a  very 
proper  life  for  a  swallow,  but  is  it  a  life  for 
you  ?  To  flit  about  from  house  to  house  ; 
to  pay  futile  visits,  where,  if  the  talk  were 
written  down,  it  would  amount  to  little  more 
than  the  chattering  of  a  swallow  ;  to  bestow 
all  your  thoughts  on  graceful  attitudes,  and 
nimble  movements,  and  polished  attire  ;  to 
roam  from  land  to  land,  with  so  little  infor- 
mation in  your  head,  or  so  little  taste  for 
the  sublime  or  beautiful  in  your  soul,  that 
could  a  swallow  publish  his  travels,  and  did 
you  publish  yours,  we  should  probably  find 
the  one  a  counterpart  of  tl^e  other :  the 
winged  traveller  enlarging  on  the  discom- 
forts of  his  nest,  and  the  wingless  one  on 
the  miseries  of  his  hotel  or  his  chateau  ;  you 
describing  the  places  of  amusement,  or  en- 
larging on  the  vastness  of  the  country,  and 
the  abundance  of  the  game,  and  your  rival 


INDUSTRY.  29 

eloquent  on  the  self-same  thirgs.  Oh  !  it 
is  a  thought — not  ridiculous,  but  appalling. 
If  the  earthly  history  of  some  of  our  breth- 
ren were  written  down  ;  if  a  faithful  record 
were  kept  of  the  way  they  spend  their  time  ; 
if  all  the  hours  of  idle  vacancy  or  idler  oc- 
cupancy were  put  togethe/,  and  the  very 
small  amount  of  useful  diligence  deducted, 
the  life  of  a  bird  or  quadruped  would  be  a 
nobler  one— more  worthy  of  its  powers  and 
more  equal  to  its  Creator's  end  in  forming 
it.  Such  a  register  is  kept.  Though  the 
trifler  does  not  chronicle  his  own  vain  words 
and  wasted  hours,  they  chronicle  themselves. 
They  find  their  indelible  place  in  that  book 
of  remembrance  with  which  human  hand 
can  not  tamper,  and  from  which  no  erasure 
save  one  can  blot  them'.  They  are  noted 
in  the  memory  of  God.  And  when  once 
this  life  of  v/ondrous  opportunities  and  awful 
advantages  is  over — when  the  twenty  or  fifty 
years  of  probation  are  fled  away — when 
mortal  existence,  with  its  facilities  for  per- 
sonal improvement  and  serviceableness  to 
3* 


30  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

Others,  is  gone  beyond  recall — when  the 
trifler  looks  back  to  the  long  pilgrimage, 
with  all  the  doors  of  hope  and  doors  of  use- 
fulness, past  which  he  skipped  in  his  frisky 
forgetfulness — what  anguish  will  it  move  to  *' 
think  that  he  has  gambolled  through  such  a 
world  without  Salvation  to  himself,  without 
any  real  benefit  to  his  brethren,  a  busy  tri- 
fler, a  vivacious  idler,  a  clever  fool ! 

III.  Those  violate  this  precept  who  have 
a  lawful  calling,  a  proper  business,  but  are 
slothful  in  it.  When  people  are  in  business 
for  themselves,  they  are  in  less  risk  of  trans- 
gressing this  injunction,  though  even  there 
it  sometimes  happens  that  the  hand  is  not 
diligent  enough  to  make  its  owner  rich. 
But  it  is  when  engaged  in  business,  not  for 
ourselves,  but  for  bthers,  or  for  God,  that 
we  are  in  greatest  danger  of  neglecting  this 
rule.  The  servant  who  has  no  pleasure  in 
his  work,  who  does  no  more  than  wages 
can  buy,  or  a  legal  agreement  enforce  ;  the 
shopman  who  does  not  enter  con  amore  into 
his  employer's  interest,  and  bestir  himself 


INDUSTRY.  3X 

to  extend  his  trade  as  he  would  strive  were 
the  concern  his  own  ;  the  scholar  who  tri- 
fles when  his  teacher's  eye  is  elsewhere, 
and  who  is  content  if  he  can  only  learn 
enough  to  escape  disgrace  ;  the  teacher  who 
is  satisfied  if  he  can  only  convey  a  decent 
quantum  of  instruction,  and  who  does  not 
labor  for  the  mental  expansion  and  spiritual 
well-being  of  his  pupils,  as  he  would  for 
those  of  his  own  children  ;  the  magistrate  or 
civic  functionary  who  is  only  careful  to  es- 
cape public  censure,  and  who  does  not  la- 
bor to  make  the  community  richer,  or  hap- 
pier, or  better,  for  his  administration  ;  the 
minister  who  can  give  his  energies  to  anoth- 
er cause  than  the  cause  of  Christ,  and  neg- 
lect his  Master's  business  in  minding  his 
own  ;  every  one,  in  short,  who  performs  the 
work  which  God  or  his  brethren  have  given 
him  to  do  in  a  hireling  and  perfunctory  man- 
ner, is  a  violator  of  the  Divine  injunction, 
"  Not  slothful  in  business."  There  are  some 
persons  of  a  dull  and  languid  turn.  They 
trail  sluggishly  through  life,  as  if  some  pain- 


32  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

ful  viscus,  some  adhesive  slime,  were  clog- 
ging every  movement,  and  making  their 
snail-path  a  waste  of  their  very  substance. 
They  do  nothing  with  that  healthy  alacrity, 
that  gleesome  energy,  which  bespeaks  a 
sound  mind  even  more  than  a  vigorous  body ; 
but  they  drag  themselves  to  the  inevitable 
task  with  remonstrating  reluctance,  as  if  ev- 
ery joint  were  set  in  a  socket  of  torture,  or 
as  if  they  expected  the  quick  flesh  to  cleave 
to  the  next  implement  of  industry  they  han- 
dled. Having  no  wholesome  love  to  work, 
no  joyous  delight  in  duty,  they  do  every- 
thing grudgingly,  in  the  most  superficial 
manner,  and  at  the  latest  moment.  Others 
there  are,  who,  if  you  find  them  at  their 
post,  you  will  find  them  dozing  at  it.  They 
are  a  sort  of  perpetual  somnambulists,  walk- 
ing through  their  sleep  ;  moving  in  a  con- 
stant mystery  ;  looking  for  their  faculties, 
and  forgetting  what  they  are  looking  for; 
not  able  to  find  their  work,  and  when  they 
have  found  their  work,  not  able  to  find  their 
hands;  doing  everything  dreamily,  and  there- 


INDUSTRY.  33 

fore  everything  confusedly  and  incomplete- 
ly ;  their  work  a  dream,  their  sleep  a  dream, 
not  repose,  not  refreshment,  but  a  slumber- 
ous vision  of  rest,  a  dreamy  query  concern- 
ing sleep  ;  too  late  for  everything,  taking 
their  passage  when  the  ship  has  sailed,  in- 
suring their  property  when  the  house  is 
burnt,  locking  the  door  when  the  goods  are 
stolen — men  whose  bodies  seem  to  have 
started  in  the  race  of  existence  before  their 
minds  were  ready,  and  who  are  always  ga- 
zing out  vacantly  as  if  they  expected  their 
wits  were  coming  up  by  the  next  arrival. 
But,  besides  the  sloths  and  the  somnambu- 
lists, there  is  a  third  class — the  day-dream- 
ers. These  are  a  very  mournful,  because 
a  self-deceiving  generation.  Like  a  man 
who  has  his  windows  glazed  with  yellow 
glass,  and  who  can  fancy  a  golden  sunshine, 
or  a  mellow  autumn  on  the  fields,  even  when 
a  wintry  sleet  is  sweeping  over  them,  the 
day-dreamer  lives  in  an  elysium  of  his  own 
creating.  With  a  foot  on  either  side  of  the 
fire — with  his  chin  on  his  bosom,  and  the 


34  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

wrong  end  of  the  book  turned  toward  him — 
he  can  pursue  his  self-complacent  musings 
till  he  imagines  himself  a  traveller  in  un- 
known lands — the  explorer  of  Central  Afri- 
ca— the  solver  of  all  the  unsolved  problems 
in  science — the  author  of  some  unprece- 
dented poem  at  which  the  wide  world  is 
wondering — or    something   so    stupendous 
that  he  even  begins  to  quail  at  his  own  glo- 
ry.    The  misery  is,  that  while  nothing  is 
done  toward  attaining  the  greatness,  his  lux- 
urious imagination  takes  its  possession  for 
granted  :  and  with  his  feet  on  the  fender,  he 
fancies  himself  already  on  the  highest  pin- 
nacle of  fame  ;  and  a  still  greater  misery  is, 
that  the  time  thus  wasted  in  unprofitable 
musings,  if  spent  in  honest  application  and 
down   right  working,  would  go  very  far  to 
carry  him  where  his  sublime  imagination 
fain  would  be.     It  would  not  be  easy  to 
estimate    the   good    of  which   day-dreams 
have  defrauded  the  world.     Some  of  the 
finest  intellects  have  exhaled  away  in  this 
sluggish  evaporation,  and  left  no  vestige  on 


INDUSTRY.  36 

earth  except  the  dried  froth,  the  obscure 
film,  which  survives  the  drivel  of  vanished 
dreams  ;  and  others  have  done  just  enough 
to  show  how  important  they  would  have 
been  had  they  awaked  sooner  or  kept  long- 
er awake  at  once.  Sir  James  Macintosh 
was  an  example  of  the  latter  class.  His 
castle-building  "  never  amounted  to  convic- 
tion ;  in  other  words,  these  fancies  have  nev- 
er influenced  my  actions  ;  but  I  must  con- 
fess that  they  have  often  been  as  steady  and 
of  as  regular  recurrence  as  conviction  itself, 
and  that  they  have  sometimes  created  a  little 
faint  expectation,  a  state  of  mind  in  which 
my  wonder  that  they  should  be  reahzed 
would  not  be  so  great  as  it  rationally  ought 
to  be."*  Perhaps  no  one  in  modern  times 
has  been  capable  of  more  sagacious  or  com- 
prehensive generalizations  in  those  sciences 
which  hold  court  in  the  high  places  of  hu- 
man intellect  than  he  ;  but  a  few  hints  and  a 
fragment  of  finished  work  are  all  that  remain. 
Coleridge  never  sufficiently  woke  up  from 
*  Life,  vol.  i.,  p.  5. 


36  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

his  long  life-dream  to  articulate  distinctly 
any  of  the  glorious  visions  which  floated  be- 
fore his  majestic  fancy,  some  of  which  we 
really  believe  that  the  world  would  have 
been  the  wiser  for  knowing.  And,  return- 
ing from  secular  philosophy  to  matters  of 
Christian  practice,  has  the  reader  never  met 
those  whose  superior  gifts  would  have  made 
them  eminently  useful,  and  who  had  designs 
of  usefulness,  perhaps  philanthropic  schemes 
of  peculiar  ingenuity  and  beauty,  but  who 
are  passing  away  from  earth,  if  they  have 
not  passed  away  already,  without  actually 
attempting  any  tangible  good  ?  And  yet  so 
sincere  are  they  in  their  own  inoperative  be- 
nevolence, so  hard  do  they  toil  and  sweat 
in  their  own  Nephelococcygia,  that  nothing 
could  surprise  them  more  than  the  question, 
"  What  do  ye  more  than  others  ?"  unless  it 
were  their  own  inability  to  point  out  the 
solid  product,  and  lay  their  hands  on  the 
actual  results.  To  avoid  this  guilt  and 
wretchedness — 

1.  Have  a  business  in  which  diligence  is 


INDUSTRY.  37 

lawful  and  desirable.  There  are  some  pur- 
suits which  do  not  deserve  to  be  called  a 
business.  jEropus  was  the  king  of  Mace- 
donia, and  it  was  his  favorite  pursuit  to  make 
lanterns.*  Probably  he  was  very  good  at 
making  them,  but  his  proper  business  was 
to  be  a  king  ;  and  therefore  the  more  lan- 
terns he  made,  the  worse  king  he  was.  And 
if  your  work  be  a  high  calling,  you  must  not 
dissipate  your  energies  on  trifles — on  things 
which,  lawful  in  themselves,  are  still  as  ir- 
relevant to  you  as  lamp-making  is  irrelevant 
to  a  king.  Perhaps  some  here  are  without 
any  specific  calling.  They  have  neither  a 
farm  nor  a  merchandise  to  look  after ;  they 
have  no  household  to  care  for,  no  children 
to  train  and  educate,  no  official  duties  to 
engross  their  time  ;  they  have  an  Indepen- 
dent fortune,  and  live  at  large.  My  friends, 
I  congratulate  you  on  your  wealth,  your 

*  Quoted  in  Todd's  Student's  Guide  (chap,  v.) — a 
book  which  ro  zealous  student  will  read  without  be- 
ing animated  by  its  vigorous  tone,  and  instructed  by 
its  wise  and  practical  suggestions* 

4 


38  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

liberal  education,  your  position  in  society, 
and  your  abundant  leisure.  It  is  in  your 
power  to  be  the  benefactors  of  your  genera- 
tion ;  you  are  in  circumstances  to  do  an 
eminent  service  for  God  and  finish  some 
great  work  before  your  going  hence.  What 
that  work  shall  be,  I  do  not  attempt  to  in- 
dicate ;  I  rather  leave  it  for  your  own  inves- 
tigation and  discovery.  Every  one  has  his 
own  line  of  things.  Howard  chose  one  path, 
and  Wllberforce  another ;  Harlan  Page 
chose  one,  and  Brainerd  Tailor  another. 
Mrs.  Fletcher  did  one  work,  Lady  Glenor- 
chy  another,  and  Mary  Jane  Graham  a  third. 
Every  one  did  the  work  for  which  God  had 
best  fitted  them,  but  each  made  that  work 
their  business.  They  gave  themselves  to  it ; 
they  not  only  did  it,  by-the-by,  but  they  se- 
lected it  and  set  themselves  in  earnest  to  it, 
not  parenthetically,  but  on  very  purpose — the 
problem  of  their  lives — for  Christ's  sake  and 
in  Christ's  service,  and  held  themselves  as 
bound  to  do  It  as  if  they  had  been  by  him- 
self expressly  engaged  for  it.     And,  breth- 


INDUSTRY.  39 

ren,  you  must  do  the  same.  Those  of  you 
who  do  not  need  to  toil  for  your  daily  bread, 
your  very  leisure  is  a  hint  what  the  Lord 
would  have  you  to  do.  As  you  have  no 
business  of  your  own,  he  would  have  you 
devote  yourselves  to  his  business  ;  he  would 
have  you  carry  on,  in  some  of  its  manifold 
departments,  that  work  which  he  came  to 
earth  to  do.  He  would  have  you  go  about 
his  Father's  business  as  he  was  wont  to  be 
about  it.  And  if  you  still  persist  in  living 
to  yourselves,  you  can  not  be  happy.  You 
can  not  spend  all  your  days  in  making  pin- 
cushions, or  reading  newspapers,  or  loiter- 
ing in  club-rooms  and  coffee-houses,  and 
yet  be  happy.  If  you  profess  to  follow 
Christ,  this  is  not  a  Christian  life.  It  is  not 
a  conscientious,  and  so  it  can  not  be  a  com- 
fortable life.  And  if  the  pin-cushion  or  the 
newspaper  fail  to  make  you  happy,  remem- 
ber the  reason — very  good  as  relaxations, 
ever  so  great  an  amount  of  these  things  can 
never  be  a  business,  and  "  wist  ye  not  that  you 
should  be  about  your  Father's  business  ?" 


40  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

2.  Having  made  a  wise  and  deliberate 
selection  of  a  business,  go  on  with  it — go 
through  with  it.  Persevering  mediocrity 
is  much  more  respectable,  and  unspeakably 
more  useful,  than  talented  inconstancy*  la 
the  heathery  turf  you  will  often  find  a  plant 
chiefly  remarkable  for  its  peculiar  roots  : 
from  the  main  stem  down  to  the  minutest 
fibre,  you  will  find  them  all  abruptly  terminate 
as  if  shorn  or  bitten  off ;  and  the  silly  super- 
stition of  the  country  people  alleges  that 
once  on  a  time  it  was  a  plant  of  singular 
potency  for  healing  all  sorts  of  maladies^ 
and  therefore  the  great  enemy  of  man  in  his 
malignity  bit  off  the  roots  in  which  its  vir- 
tues resided.  This  plant,  with  this  quaint 
history,  is  a  very  good  emblem  of  many 
well-meaning  but  little-effecting  people. 
They  might  be  defined  as  radicibus  proB' 
morsis,  or  rather  inceptis  mccisis.  The  effi- 
cacy of  every  good  work  lies  in  its  comple- 
tion :  and  all  their  good  works  terminate  ab- 
ruptly, and  are  left  off  unfinished.  The 
devil  firustrates  their  efficacy  by  cutting  off 


INDUSTRY.  41 

their  ends  ;  their  unprofitable  history  is  made 
up  of  plans  and  projects,  schemes  of  useful- 
ness that  were  never  gone  about,  and  mag- 
nificent undertakings  that  were  never  carried 
forward  ;  societies  that  were  set  agoing,  then 
left  to  shift  for  themselves,  and  forlorn  beings 
who  for  a  time  were  taken  up  and  instruct- 
ed, and  just  when  they  were  beginning  to 
show  symptoms  of  improvement,  were  cast 
on  the  world  again.  But  others  there  are, 
who,  before  beginning  to  build,  count  the 
cost,  and  having  collected  their  materials, 
and  laid  their  foundations  deep  and  broad, 
go  on  to  rear  their  structure,  indifferent  to 
more  tempting  schemes  and  sublime  enter- 
prises subsequently  suggested.  The  man 
who  provides  a  home  for  a  poor  neighbor, 
is  a  greater  benefactor  of  the  poor  than  he 
who  lays  the  foundation  of  a  stately  alms- 
house and  never  finishes  a  single  apartment. 
The  persevering  teacher  who  guides  one 
child  into  the  saving  knowledge  of  Christ 
and  leads  him  on  to  established  habits  of 
piety,  is  a  more  useful  man  than  his  friend 
4* 


43  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

who  gathers  in  a  room-full  of  ragged  chil- 
dren, and  after  a  few  weeks  of  waning  zeal, 
turns  them  all  adrift  on  the  streets  again. 
The  patriot  who  set  his  heart  on  abolishing 
the  slave-trade,  and  after  twenty  years  of 
rebuffs  and  revilings,  of  tantalized  hope  and 
disappointed  effort,  at  last  succeeded — 
achieved  a  greater  work  than  if  he  had  set 
afloat  all  possible  schemes  of  philanthropy, 
and  then  left  them,  one  after  the  other,  to 
sink  or  swim.  So  short  is  life,  that  we  can 
afford  to  lose  none  of  it  in  abortive  under- 
takings ;  and  once  we  are  assured  that  a 
given  work  is  one  which  it  is  worth  our  while 
to  do,  it  is  true  wisdom  to  set  about  it  in- 
stantly, and  once  we  have  begun  it,  it  is 
true  economy  to  finish  it. 


INDUSTRY.  43 


LECTURE    II. 

INDUSTRY. 

"Not  slothful  in  business." — Romans  xii.  11. 

This  morning  we  saw  how  this  precept 
is  violated  by  various  descriptions  of  per- 
sons :  by  those  who  have  no  business  at  all, 
and  those  whose  business  is  only  an  active 
idleness  :  and,  finally,  by  those  who,  having 
a  lawful  business — a  good  and  honorable 
work  assigned  them — do  it  reluctantly  or 
drowsily,  or  leave  it  altogether  undone. 

There  are  some  who  have  no  business  at 

all.     They  are  of  no  use  in  the  world  ;  they 

are  doing  no  good,  and  attempting  none  ; 

and  when  they  are  taken  out  of  the  world, 

4* 


44  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

their  removal  creates  no  vacancy-  When 
an  oak  or  any  noble  and  useful  tree  is  up- 
rooted, his  removal  creates  a  blank.  For 
years  after,  when  you  look  to  the  place 
which  once  knew  him,  you  see  that  some- 
thing is  missing.  The  branches  of  adjacent 
trees  have  not  yet  supplied  the  void.  They 
still  hesitate  to  occupy  the  place  formerly 
filled  by  their  powerful  neighbor ;  and  there 
is  still  a  deep  chasm  in  the  ground — a  rug- 
ged pit — which  shows  how  far  his  giant 
roots  once  spread.  But  when  a  leafless 
pole,  a  wooden  pin,  is  plucked  up,  it  comes 
easy  and  clean  away.  There  is  no  rending 
of  the  turf,  no  marring  of  the  landscape,  no 
vacuity  created,  no  regret.  It  leaves  no  me- 
mento, and  is  never  missed.  Now,  breth- 
ren, which  are  you  ?  Are  you  cedars,  plant- 
ed in  the  house  of  the  Lord,  casting  a  cool 
and  grateful  shadow  on  those  around  you? 
Are  you  palm-trees,  fat  and  flourishing, 
yielding  bounteous  fruit,  and  making  all 
who  know  you  bless  you  ?  Are  you  so 
useful,  that,  were  you  once  away,  it  would 


INDUSTRY.  45 

not  be  easy  to  fill  your  place  again  :  but  peo- 
ple, as  they  pointed  to  the  void  in  the  plan- 
tation— the  pit  in  the  ground — would  say, 
*'  It  was  here  that  that  brave  cedar  grew  : 
it  was  here  that  that  old  palm-tree  diffused 
his  familiar  shadow  and  showered  his  mel- 
low clusters  ?"  Or  are  you  a  peg — a  pin 
— a  rootless,  branchless,  fruitless  thing  that, 
may  be  pulled  up  any  day,  and  no  one  ever 
care  to  ask  what  has  become  of  it  ?  What 
are  you  doing  ?  What  are  you  contributing 
to  the  world's  happiness,  or  the  church's 
glory  ?    What  is  your  business  ? 

Individuals  there  are  who  are  doing 
something,  though  it  would  be  difficult  to 
specify  what.  They  are  busy ;  but  it  is  a 
busy  idleness. 

"  Their  only  labor  is  to  kill  the  time, 
And  labor  dire  it  is,  and  weary  wo. 
They  sit,  they  loll,  turn  o'er  some  idle  rhyme, 
Or  saunter  forth,  with  tottering  steps  and  slow : 
This  soon  too  rude  an  exercise  they  find — 
Straight  on  the  couch  their  limbs  again  they  throw. 
Where  hours  on  hours  they  sighing  lie  reclined, 
And   court  the  vapory  god   soft-breathing   in  the 
wind." — Castle  of  Indolence. 


46  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

They  think  that  they  are  busy,  though 
their  chief  business  be  to  get  quit  of  them- 
selves. To  annihilate  time,  to  quiet  con- 
science, to  banish  care,  to  keep  ennui  out 
at  one  door,  and  serious  thoughts  out  at 
the  other,  gives  them  all  their  occupation. 
And,  betwixt  their  fluttering  visits  and 
frivolous  engagements,  their  midnight  di- 
versions, their  haggard  mornings,  and  short- 
ened days,  their  yawning  attempts  at  read- 
ing, and  sulky  application  to  matters  of 
business  which  they  can  not  well  evade ; 
betwixt  mobs  of  callers  and  shoals  of  cere- 
monious notes,  they  fuss  and  fret  them- 
selves into  the  pleasant  belief  that  they  are 
the  most  worried  and  hard-driven  of  mortal 
men.  Even  when  groaning  in  prospect  of 
interminable  hours  they  have  not  a  moment 
to  spare ;  and  a  chief  employment  of  their 
leisure  is  to  appear  in  a  constant  hurry. 
Could  you  embody  in  matter-of-fact  all 
therr  sham  activity  and  busthng  show,  could 
you  write  down  a  truthful  enumeration  of 
the  doings  of  a  single  week,  I  fear  there 


INDUSTRY.  47 

would  not  be  found  one  act  which,  were 
He  saying,  "  Thou  fool,  this  night  shall 
thy  soul  be  required  of  thee,"  the  Judge 
of  all  would  accept  as  a  right  deed  or  right- 
ly done.  It  is  possible  to  be  very  busy, 
and  yet  very  idle.  It  is  possible  to  be  se- 
rious about  trifles,  and  to  exhaust  one's  en- 
ergies in  doing  nothing.  It  is  possible  to 
be  toiling  all  one's  days  in  doing  that  which, 
in  the  infatution  of  fashion  or  the  delirium 
of  ambition,  will  look  exceedingly  august 
and  important ;  but  which  the  first  flash  of 
eternity  will  transmute  into  shame  and  ever- 
lasting contempt. 

Then,  among  those  who  have  really  got 
a  work  to  do — whose  calling  is  lawful  or 
something  more — perhaps  a  direct  vocation 
in  the  service  of  God,  there  are  three  classes 
who  violate  the  precept  of  the  text — those 
who  do  their  work  grudgingly,  or  drowsily, 
or  not  at  all — the  sloths,  the  somnambulists, 
and  the  day-dreamers.  Some  do  it  grudg- 
ingly. They  have  not  a  heart  for  work ; 
and  of  all  work,  least  heart  for  that  which 


48  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

God  has  given  them.  Instead  of  that  an« 
gelic  alacrity  which  speeds  instinctively  on 
the  service  God  assigns,  that  healthy  love 
of  labor  which  a  loyal  and  well-conditioned 
soul  would  have,  they  postpone  everything 
to  the  latest  moment,  and  then  go  whim- 
pering and  growling  to  the  hated  task  as  if 
they  were  about  to  undergo  some  dismal 
punishment.  They  have  a  strange  idea  of 
occupation.  They  look  on  it  as  a  drug,  a 
penalty,  a  goblin,  a  fiend,  something  very 
fierce  and  cruel,  something  very  nauseous ; 
and  they  would  gladly  smuggle  through  ex- 
istence by  one  of  those  side-paths  which 
the  grim  giants,  labor  and  industry,  do  not 
guard. 

Others  again,  who  do  not  quite  refuse 
their  work,  put  only  half  a  soul  into  it. 
They  have  no  zeal  for  their  profession. 
They  somehow  scramble  through  it ;  but  it 
is  without  any  noble  enthusiasm — any  ap- 
petite for  work  or  any  love  to  the  God  who 
gives  it.  If  they  are  intrusted  with  the 
property  of  others,  they  can  not  boast  as 


INDUSTRY.  49 

Jacob  did :  "  In  the  day  the  drought  con- 
sumed me,  and  the  frost  by  night ;  and  my 
sleep  departed  from  mine  eyes.  God  hath 
seen  mine  affliction  and  the  labor  of  my 
hands."  If  intrusted  with  the  souls  of  others, 
they  can  not  reckon  up  "  the  abundant  labors, 
the  often  journeyings,  the  weariness  and 
painfulness,  the  watchings,  the  hunger  and 
thirst,"  the  perils  and  privations  which,  for 
the  love  of  his  Master  and  his  Master's  work, 
the  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles  joyfully  encoun- 
tered* If  scholars,  they  are  content  to  learn 
the  lesson,  so  that  no  fault  shall  be  found. 
If  servants,  they  aspire  to  nothing  more 
than  fulfilling  their  inevitable  toils.  And  if 
occupying  official  stations,  they  are  satisfied 
with  a  decent  discharge  of  customary  duties, 
and  are  glad  if  they  leave  things  no  worse 
than  they  found  them.  They  are  hireHng, 
perfunctory,  heartless  in  all  they  do.  Their 
work  is  so  sleepily  done  that  it  is  enough 
to  make  you  lethargic  to  labor  in  their  com- 
pany ;  and,  before  they  go  zealously  and 
wakefully  to  work,  they  would  need  to  be 
5 


50  LIFE    IN   EARNEST. 

Startled  up  into  the  daylight  of  actual  ex- 
istence— they  would  need  to  be  shaken 
from  that  torpor  into  which  the  very  sight 
of  labor  is  apt  to  entrance  them.  Oh,  hap- 
pier far,  to  lose  health  and  life  itself  in  clear, 
brisk,  conscious  working ;  to  spend  the  last 
atom  of  strength,  and  yield  the  vital  spark 
itself  in  joyful  wakeful  efforts  for  Him  who 
did  all  for  us — than  to  drawl  through  a 
dreaming  life,  with  all  the  fatigue  of  labor  and 
nothing  of  its  sweetness  ;  snoring  in  a  con- 
stant lethargy,  sleeping  while  you  work,  and 
nightmared  with  labor  when  you  really  sleep. 
And,  besides  the  procrastinating  and  per- 
functory class,  those  are  "  slothful  in  busi- 
ness" who  do  no  business  at  all.  And 
there  are  such  persons — agreeable,  self- 
complacent,  plausible  persons — who  really 
fancy  that  they  have  done  a  great  deal  be- 
cause they  have  intended  to  do  so  much. 
Their  life  is  made  up  of  good  purposes, 
splendid  projects,  and  heroic  resolutions. 
They  live  in  the  region  which  the  poet  has 
described : — 


INDUSTRY.  51 

**  A  pleasing  land  of  drowsy-head  it  was. 
Of  dreams  that  wave  before  the  half-shut  eye, 
And  of  gay  castles  in  the  clouds  that  pass. 
For  ever  flushing  round  a  summer's  sky." 

•  They  have  performed  so  many  journeys, 
and  made  so  many  discoveries,  and  won  so 
many  laurels  in  this  aerial  clime,  that  life 
is  over,  and  they  find  their  real  work  is  not 
begun.  Like  the  dreamer  who  is  getting 
great  sums  of  money  in  his  sleep,  and  who, 
when  he  awakes,  opens  his  till  or  his  pocket- 
book,  almost  expecting  to  find  it  full,  the 
day-dreamer,  the  projector  awaking  up  at 
the  close  of  life,  can  hardly  believe  that 
after  his  distinct  and  glorious  visions,  he  is 
leaving  the  world  no  wiser,  mankind  no 
richer,  and  his  own  home  no  happier,  for 
aH  the  golden  prospects  which  have  flitted 
through  his  busy  brain.  What  a  blessed 
world  it  were,  how  happy  and  how  rich,  if 
all  the  idlers  were  working,  if  all  the  work- 
ers were  awake,  and  if  all  the  projectors 
were  practical  men ! 

I  trust,  my  friends,  that   many  among 


52  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

you  are  desirous  to  be  active  Christians. 
Perhaps  the  following  hints  may  be  helpful 
to  those  who  wish  to  serve  the  Lord  by 
diligence  in  business. 

1.  Have  a  calling  in  which  it  is  worth 
while  to  be  busy.  There  are  many  call- 
ings in  which  it  is  lawful  for  the  Christian 
to  "  abide."  He  may  be  a  lawyer  like  Sir 
Matthew  Hale,  or  a  physician  like  Haller, 
Heberden,  and  Mason  Goode.  He  may 
be  a  painter  like  West,  or  a  sculptor  like 
Bacon,  or  a  poet  like  Milton,  and  Klop- 
stock,  and  Cowper.  He  may  be  a  trader 
like  Thornton  and  the  Hardcastles,  or  a 
philosopher  like  Boyle  and  Boerhaave.  He 
may  be  a  hard-working  artisan  like  the 
Yorkshire  Blacksmith  and  the  Watchmaker 
of  Geneva;  or  he  may  toil  for  his  daily 
bread  like  the  Happy  Waterman,  and  the 
Wallsend  Miner,  and  the  Shepherd  of 
Salisbury  Plain,  and  many  a  domestic  ser- 
vant of  humble  but  pious  memory.  And 
the  business  of  this  ordinary  calling,  the 
disciple  of  Christ  must  discharge  heartily, 


INDUSTRY.  53 

and  with  all  his  might.  He  must  labor  to 
be  eminent  and  exemplary  in  his  own  pro- 
fession. He  should  seek,  for  the  sake  of 
the  Gospel,  to  he  first-rate  in  his  own  de- 
partment. But  over  and  above  his  ordinary 
calling  as  a  member  of  society,  the  believer 
has  his  special  calling  as  a  member  of  the 
church.  He  has  a  direct  work  to  do  in 
his  Savior's  service.  Some  who  now  hear 
me  have  so  much  of  their  time  at  their  own 
disposal,  that  they  might  almost  make  their 
caHing  as  members  of  Christ's  church  the 
business  of  their  lives.  And  each  who  is 
in  this  privileged  situation  should  consider 
what  is  the  particular  line  of  things  for 
which  his  taste  and  talents  most  urgently 
predispose  him,  and  for  which  his  training 
and  station  best  adapt  him.  The  healthiest 
condition  of  the  church  is  where  there  is  a 
member  for  every  office,  and  where  every 
member  fulfils  his  own  office,*  where  there 
are  no  defects  and  no  transpositions,  but 
each  is  allowed  to  ply  to  the  utmost  the 

*  Rom.  xii.  3-8. 
5* 


54  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

work  for  which  God  has  intended  him; 
where  Newton  writes  his  letters,  and  Butler 
his  analogy;  where  in  the  leisure  of  the 
olden  ministry,  Matthew  Henry  compiles 
his  commentary,  and  where  in  the  calm  re- 
treat of  Olney,  Cowper  pours  forth  his  de- 
votional melodies ;  where  Venn  cultivates 
his  corner  of  the  vineyard,  and  Whitefield 
ranges  over  the  field  of  the  world  ;  where 
President  Edwards  is  locked  up  in  his 
study,  and  Wilberforce  is  detained  in  the 
parlor;  where  the  adventurous  Carey  goes 
down  into  the  pit,  and  the  sturdy  arm  of 
Fuller  deals  out  the  rope  ;  where  he  who 
ministers  waits  on  his  ministering,  and  he 
that  teacheth  on  teaching,  and  he  that  ex- 
horteth  on  exhortation,  and  he  who  hath  to 
give  gives  liberally,  and  he  who  has  method 
and  good  management  rules  diligently,  and 
he  who  can  pay  visits  of  mercy  pays  them 
cheerfully.  And  if  the  Lord  has  given  you 
an  abundance  of  unoccupied  leisure,  he  has 
along  with  it  given  you  some  talent  or 
other,  and   says,  "  Occupy  till  I  come." 


INDUSTRY.  55 

Find  out  what  it  is  that  you  best  can  do,  or 
what  it  is  which,  if  you  neglect  it,  is  Hkely 
to  be  left  undone.  And  whether  you  select 
as  your  sphere  of  Christian  usefulness,  a 
sabbath  class  or  a  ragged  school,  a  local 
prayer-meeting,  or  a  district  for  domiciliary 
visitation  ;  whether  you  devote  yourself  to 
the  interests  of  some  evangehstic  society,  or 
labor  secretly  from  house  to  house,  what- 
ever line  of  things  you  select,  make  it  your 
"business."  Pursue  it  so  earnestly,  that 
though  it  were  only  in  that  one  field  of  ac- 
tivity you  would  evince  yourself  no  com- 
mon Christian. 

2.  Make  the  most  of  time.  Some  have 
little  leisure,  but  there  are  sundry  expedi- 
ents, any  one  of  which,  if  fairly  tried,  would 
make  that  little  leisure  longer.  (1.)  Econ- 
omy. Most  of  the  men  who  have  died 
enormously  rich,  acquired  their  wealth,  not 
in  huge  windfalls,  but  by  minute  and  care- 
ful accumulations.  It  was  not  one  vast 
sum  bequeathed  to  them  after  another, 
which  overwhelmed  them  with  inevitable 


56  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

opulence ;  but  it  was  the  loose  money  which 
most  men  would  lavish  away,  the  little  sums 
which  many  would  not  deem  worth  looking 
after,  the  pennies  and  half-crowns  of  which 
H^you  would  keep  no  reckoning,  these  are  the 
items  which  year  by  year  piled  up,  have 
reared  their  pyramid  of  fortune.  From 
these  money-makers  let  us  learn  the  nobler 
"  avarice  of  time."  A  German  critic  could 
repeat  the  Iliad  in  Greek.  How  many 
weeks  did  he  bestow  on  the  task  of  com- 
mitting it  to  memory  ?  He  had  no  weeks 
to  spare  for  such  a  purpose,  for  he  was  a 
physician  in  busy  practice  ;  but  he  con- 
trived to  master  it  all  during  the  brief 
snatches  of  time  when  passing  from  one 
patient's  door  to  another.*  In  the  life  of 
Dr.  Mason  Good,  a  feat  of  similar  industry 

*  A  similar  instance  of  literary  industry  is  recorded 
of  Dr.  Burney,  the  musician.  With  the  help  of 
pocket  grammars  and  dictionaries,  which  he  had  taken 
the  trouble  to  write  out  for  his  own  use,  he  acquired 
the  French  and  Italian  languages  when  riding  on 
horseback  from  place  to  place  to  give  his  professional 
instructions. 


INDUSTRY.  57 

is  recorded.  *'  His  translation  of  Lucretius 
was  composed  in  the  streets  of  London, 
during  his  extensive  walks  to  visit  his  nu- 
merous patients.  His  practice  was  to  take 
in  his  pocket  two  or  three  leaves  of  an  oc- 
tavo edition  of  the  original ;  to  read  over  a 
passage  two  or  three  times  as  he  walked 
along,  until  he  had  engraven  it  upon  his 
ready  memory ;  then  to  translate  the  pas- 
sage, meditate  upon  the  translation,  correct 
and  elaborate  it,  until  he  had  satisfied  him- 
self." Proceeding  in  the  same  way  with  a 
second,  a  third,  and  fourth  passage,  he  en- 
tered the  translation  on  his  manuscript,  af- 
ter he  had  returned  home,  and  disposed  of 
all  his  professional  business.  And  in  order 
to  achieve  some  good  work  which  you  have 
much  at  heart,  you  may  not  be  able  to  se- 
cure an  entire  week,  or  even  an  uninter- 
rupted day.  But  try  what  you  can  make 
of  the  broken  fragments  of  time.  Glean  up 
its  golden  dust ;  those  raspings  and  parings 
of  precious  duration,  those  leavings  of  days 
and   remnants   of  hours  which   so    many 


58  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

sweep  out  into  the  waste  of  existence. 
Perhaps,  if  you  be  a  miser  of  moments,  if 
you  be  frugal  and  hoard  up  odd  minutes, 
and  half-hours,  and  unexpected  holydays, 
your  careful  gleanings  may  eke  out  a  long 
and  useful  life,  and  you  may  die  at  last 
richer  in  existence  than  multitudes  whose 
time  is  all  their  own.  The  time  which  some 
men  waste  in  superfluous  slumber,  and  idle 
visits,  and  desultory  application,  were  it  all 
redeemed,  would  give  them  wealth  of 
leisure,  and  enable  them  to  execute  under- 
takings for  which  they  deem  a  less  worried 
life  than  theirs  essential.  When  a  person 
says,  "  I  have  no  time  to  pray,  no  time  to 
read  the  Bible,  no  time  to  improve  my 
mind,  nor  to  do  a  kind  turn  to  a  neighbor," 
he  may  be  saying  what  he  thinks,  but  he 
should  not  think  what  he  says  ;  for  if  he  has 
not  got  the  time  already,  he  may  get  it  by 
redeeming  it.  (2.)  P^mctuality.  A  singu- 
lar mischance  has  occurred  to  some  of  our 
friends.  At  the  instant  when  he  ushered 
them  on  existence,  God  gave  them  a  work 


INDUSTRY.  59 

to  do,  and  he  also  gave  them  a  competency 
of  time,  so  much  time,  that,  if  they  began  at 
the  right  moment,  and  wrought  with  sufficient 
vigor,  their  time  and  their  work  would  end 
together.  But  a  good  many  years  ago  a 
strange  misfortune  befell  them.  A  fragment 
of  their  allotted  time  was  lost.  They  can 
not  tell  what  became  of  it,  but  sure  enough 
it  has  dropped  out  of  existence ;  for,  just 
like  two  measuring-lines  laid  alongside,  the 
one  an  inch  shorter  than  the  other,  their 
work  and  their  time  run  parallel,  but  the 
work  is  always  ten  minutes  in  advance  of 
the  time.  They  are  not  irregular.  They 
are  never  too  soon.  Their  letters  are  posted 
the  very  minute  after  the  mail  is  shut ;  they 
arrive  at  the  wharf  just  in  time  to  see  the 
steamboat  off;  they  come  in  sight  of  the 
terminus  precisely  as  the  station-gates  are 
closing.  They  do  not  break  any  engage- 
ment nor  neglect  any  duty ;  but  they  sys- 
tematically go  about  it  too  late,  and  usually 
too  late  by  about  the  ame  fatal  interval. 
How  can  they  retrieve  •    e  lost  fragment,  so 


60  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

essential  to  character  and  comfort?  Per- 
haps by  a  device  like  this  :  suppose  that  on 
some  auspicious  morning  they  contrived  to 
rise  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  their  usual 
time,  and  v^^ere  ready  for  their  morning 
worship  fifteen  minutes  sooner  than  they 
have  been  for  the  last  ten  years ;  or,  what 
will  equally  answer  the  end,  suppose  that 
for  once  they  merged  their  morning  meal 
altogether,  and  went  straight  out  to  the  en- 
gagements of  the  day ;  suppose  that  they 
arrived  at  the  class-room,  or  the  work-shop, 
or  the  place  of  business,  fifteen  minutes  be- 
fore their  natural  time,  or  that  they  forced 
themselves  to  the  appointed  rendezvous  on 
the  week-day,  or  to  the  sanctuary  on  the 
sabbath-day,  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before 
their  instinctive  time  of  going,  all  would  yet 
be  well.  This  system  carried  out  would 
bring  the  world  and  themselves  to  synchro- 
nize ;  they  and  the  marching  hours  would 
come  to  keep  step  again,  and  moving  on 
in  harmony,  they  would  escape  the  jolting 
awkwardness  and  fatigue  they  used  to  feel, 


INDUSTRY,  61 

when  old  Father  Time  put  the  right  foot 
foremost  and  they  advanced  the  left ;  their 
reputation  would  be  retrieved,  and  friends 
who  at  present  fret  would  begin  to  smile ; 
their  fortunes  would  be  made  ;  their  satis- 
faction in  their  work  would  be  doubled ; 
and  their  influence  over  others  and  their 
power  for  usefulness  would  be  unspeakably 
augmented.  (3.)  Method.  A  man  has  got 
twenty  or  thirty  letters  and  packets  to  carry 
to  their  several  destinations  ;  but  instead  of 
arranging  them  beforehand,  and  putting  all 
addressed  to  the  same  locality  in  a  separate 
parcel,  he  crams  the  whole  into  his  pro- 
miscuous bag,  and  trudges  off  to  the  West 
End,  for  he  knows  that  he  has  got  a  letter 
directed  thither  :  that  letter  he  delivers,  and 
hies  away  to  the  City,  when  lo  !  the  same 
handful  which  brings  out  the  invoice  for 
Cheapside,  contains  a  brief  for  the  Temple, 
and  a  parliamentary  petition,  which  should 
have  been  left,  had  he  noticed  it  earher,  at 
Belgrave  Square  ;  accordingly  he  retraces 
his  steps  and  repairs  the  omission,  and  then 
6 


62  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

performs  a  transit  from  Paddington  to  Beth- 
nal  Green — till  in  two  days  he  overtakes  the 
work  of  one,  and  travels  fifty  miles  to  ac- 
complish as  much  as  a  man  of  method 
would  have  managed  in  fifteen.  The  man 
who  has  thoroughly  mastered  that  lesson — 
"  A  place  for  everything,  and  everything  in 
its  own  place" — will  save  a  world  of  time. 
He  loses  no  leisure  seeking  for  the  unan- 
swered letter  or  the  lost  receipt ;  he  does 
not  need  to  travel  the  same  road  twice  ;  and 
hence  it  is  that  some  of  the  busiest  men 
have  the  least  of  a  busy  look.  Instead  of 
slamming  doors,  and  ringing  alarm-bells, 
and  knocking  over  chairs  and  children  in 
their  headlong  hurry,  they  move  about  de- 
liberately, for  they  have  made  their  calcula- 
tions, and  know  that  they  have  ample  time. 
And  just  as  a  prodigal  of  large  fortune  is 
obliged  to  do  shabby  things,  while  an  order- 
ly man  of  moderate  income  has  always  an 
easy  look,  as  if  there  were  still  something 
left  in  his  pocket — as  he  can  afford  to  pay 
for  goods  when  he  buys  them,  and  to  put 


INDUSTRY. 


something  into  the  collecting-box  when  it 
passes  him,  and  after  he  has  discharged  all 
his  debts  has  still  something  to  spare — so  is 
it  with  the  methodical  husbanders  and  the 
disorderly  spendthrifts  of  time.  Those  who 
live  without  a  plan  have  never  any  leisure, 
for  their  work  is  never  done  :  those  who  time 
their  engagements,  and  arrange  their  work 
beforehand,  can  bear  an  occasional  interrup- 
tion. They  can  reserve  an  evening  hour  for 
their  families  ;  they  can  sometimes  take  a 
walk  into  the  country,  or  drop  in  to  see  a 
friend  ;  they  can  now  and  then  contrive  to 
read  a  useful  book  ;  and  amid  all  their  im- 
portant avocations,  they  have  a  tranquil  and 
opulent  appearance,  as  if  they  still  had  plen- 
ty of  time.  (4.)  Promptitude.  Every  scene 
of  occupation  is  haunted  by  that  *'  thief  of 
time,"  procrastination  ;  and  all  his  ingenuity 
is  directed  to  steal  that  best  of  opportuni- 
ties, the  present  time.  The  disease  of  hu- 
manity, disinclination  to  the  work  God  has 
given,  more  frequently  takes  the  form  of 
dilatoriness  than  a  downright  and  decided 


64  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

refusal.  But  delay  shortens  life  and  abridg- 
es industry,  just  as  promptitude  enlarges 
both.  You  have  a  certain  amount  of  work 
before  you,  and  in  all  likelihood  some  un- 
expected engagements  may  be  superadded 
as  the  time  wears  on.  You  may  begin  that 
work  immediately,  or  you  may  postpone  it 
till  the  evening,  or  till  the  week  be  closing, 
or  till  near  the  close  of  life.  Your  sense  of 
duty  insists  on  its  being  done  ;  but  procras- 
tination says,  "  It  will  be  pleasanter  to  do 
it  by-and-by."  What  infatuation  !  to  end 
each  day  in  a  hurry,  and  life  itself  in  a  pan- 
ic !  and  when  the  flurried  evening  has  closed, 
and  the  fevered  life  is  over,  to  leave  half 
your  work  undone  !  Whatever  the  business 
be,  do  it  instantly,  if  you  would  do  it  easily  : 
life  will  be  long  enough  for  the  work  as- 
signed, if  you  be  prompt  enough.  Clear 
off  arrears  of  neglected  duty ;  and  once  the 
disheartening  accumulations  of  the  past  are 
overtaken,  let  not  that  mountain  of  difficulty 
rise  again.  Prefer  duty  to  diversion,  and 
cultivate  that  athletic  frame  of  soul  which 


INDUSTRY.  65 

rejoices  in  abundant  occupation  ;  and  you 
will  soon  find  the  sweetness  of  that  repose 
which  follows  finished  work,  and  the  zest  of 
that  recreation  in  which  no  delinquent  feehng 
mingles,  and  on  which  no  neglected  duty 
frowns. 

6* 


66  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 


LECTURE    III. 

AN    EYE    TO    THE    LORD    JESUS. 
"  Set-ving  the  Lord." — Romans  xii.  11. 

*'  Serving  the  Lord."  The  title  which 
James  and  Jude  take  to  themselves  at  the 
outset  of  their  epistles  is,  "  James — Jude — 
a  servant  of  Jesus  Christ."  The  original 
is  more  forcible  still.  In  the  inscriptions  of 
these  epistles,  as  well  as  in  this  passage,  a 
true  and  emphatic  rendering  would  be,  "  a 
slave  of  Jesus  Christ ;" — "  Not  slothful  in 
business,  fervent  in  spirit,  the  Lord's  bond- 
men,^"*  The  believer  is  the  happy  captive 
of  Jesus  Christ ;  he  has  fastened  on  himself 


AN    EYE    TO    THE    LORD    JESUS.  67 

ImmanuePs  easy  yoke,  the  light  burden  and 
deHcious  chains  of  a  Savior's  love  ;  and 
though  Christ  says,  "  Henceforth  I  call  you 
no  more  servants,"  the  disciple  can  not  give 
«p  the  designation  ;  there  is  no  other  term 
■by  which,  at  times,  he  can  express  that  feel- 
ing of  intense  devotedness  and  self-surren- 
der which  fills  his  loyal  bosom.  "  Truly, 
O  Lord,  1  am  thy  servant,  and  the  son  of 
thy  handmaid."  And  far  from  feeling  any 
ignominy  in  the  -appellation,  there  are  times 
when  no  name  of  Jesus  sounds  sweeter  in 
his  ear  than  '*  Jesus,  my  Lord  !  Jesus,  my 
Master  r"  and  when  no  designation  more 
accords  with  his  feeling  of  entire  devoted- 
aess,  than  James,  a  servant,  Jude,  a  slave 
of  Jesus  Christ,  David,  a  bondsman  of  the 
Lord.  There  are  times  when  the  believer 
has  such  adoring  views  of  his  Savior's  ex- 
cellency, and  such  affecting  views  of  his 
Savior's  claims,  that  rather  than  refuse  one 
requirement,  he  only  grudges  that  the  yoke 
is  so  easy  that  he  can  scarcely  perceive  it, 
the  burden  so  light  that  he  can  scarcely  rec- 


68  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

ognlse  himself  as  a  servant.  He  would  like 
something  which  would  identify  him  more 
closely  with  his  beloved  Savior,  some  open 
badge  that  he  might  carry,  and  which  would 
say  for  him — 

"  I'm  not  ashamed  to  own  my  Lord." 

If  Christ  would  bore  his  ear  to  the  door- 
post— ^if  Christ  would  only  give  him  out  of 
his  own  hand  his  daily  task  to  do — he  would 
like  it  well ;  and  ceasing  to  be  the  servant 
of  men,  he  would  fain  become  the  servant 
of  Jesus  Christ. 

And  going  to  the  Savior  in  this  ardent 
mood  of  mind,  and  saying,  "  Lord,  what 
wouldst  thou  have  me  to  do  ?"  the  Savior 
hands  you  back  the  Bible.  He  accepts  you 
for  his  servant,  and  he  directs  you  what  ser- 
vice he  would  have  you  to  perform.  The 
book  which  he  gives  you  is  as  really  the 
directory  of  Christ's  servants  as  is  the  sealed 
paper  of  instructions  which  the  commander 
of  an  expedition  takes  with  him  when  he 
goes  to  sea,  or  the  letterof  directions  which 


AN  EYE  TO  THE  LORD  JESUS.      69 

the  absent  nobleman  sends  to  the  steward 
•on  his  estates  or  the  servant  in  his  house. 
The  only  difierence  is,  its  generality.  In- 
stead of  making  out  a  separate  copy  for 
your  specific  use,  indicating  the  different 
things  which  he  would  have  you  do  from 
day  to  day,  and  sending  it  direct  to  your- 
self, authenticated  by  his  own  autograph, 
and  by  the  precision  and  individuality  of  its 
details,  evidently  designed  for  yourself  ex- 
clusively— the  volume  of  his  will  is  of  a 
wider  aspect  aad  more  miscellaneous  char- 
acter. It  effectually  anticipates  each  step 
of  your  individual  history,  and  prescribes 
€ach  act  of  your  personal  duty ;  but  inter- 
mingling these  with  matters  of  promiscuous 
import,  it  leaves  abundant  scope  for  your 
honesty  and  ingenuity  to  find  out  the  pre- 
cise things  which  jour  Lord  would  have 
you  to  do.  Had  it  been  otherivise — had 
there  been  put  into  the  hand  of  each  disci- 
ple, the  moment  he  professed  his  faith  in 
Christ,  a  sealed  paper  of  instructions,  con- 
taining an  enumeration  of  the  special  ser- 


70  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

vices  which  his  Lord  would  have  this  new 
disciple  to  render,  prescribing  a  certain 
number  of  tasks  which  he  expected  that  dis- 
ciple to  perform,  and  specifying  the  very 
way  in  which  he  would  have  them  done — 
in  proportion  as  this  directory  was  precise 
and  rigid,  so  would  it  cease  to  be  the  test 
of  fidelity,  so  would  it  abridge  the  limits 
within  which  an  unrestricted  loyalty  may 
display  itself.  As  it  is,  the  directory  is  so 
plain,  that  he  who  runs  may  read :  not  so 
plain,  however,  but  that  he  who  stands  still 
and  ponders  will  find  a  great  deal  which  the 
runner  could  not  read.  It  is  so  perempto- 
ry, that  no  man  can  call  Jesus  Loid  without 
doing  the  things  which  it  commands  ;  but 
withal  so  general,  as  to  leave  many  things 
to  the  candor  and  cordiality  of  sound-heart- 
ed disciples.  It  is  precise  enough  to  indi- 
cate the  tempers,  and  the  graces,  and  the 
good  works,  with  which  the  Savior  is  well 
pleased,  and  by  which  the  Father  is  glori- 
fied ;  but  it  nowhere  fixes  the  exact  amount 
of  any  one  of  these,  short  of  which  Christ 


AN    EYE    TO    THE    LORD    JESUS.  71 

will  not  suffer  a  disciple  to  stop,  or  beyond 
which  he  does  not  expect  a  disciple  to  go. 
The  Bible  does  not  deal  in  maximums  and 
minimums ;  it  does  not  weigh  and  measure 
out  by  definite  proportions  the  ingredients 
of  regenerate  character  ;  but  it  specifies  what 
these  ingredients  are,  and  leaves  it  to  the 
zeal  of  each  believer  to  add  to  his  faith,  not 
as  many,  but  as  much  of  each  of  these  things 
as  he  pleases.  Firmly  averring,  on  the  one 
hand,  that  without  each  and  all  of  these 
graces  a  man  can  not  belong  to  Christ,  it, 
on  the  other  hand,  omits  to  specify  how 
much  of  each  a  man  must  be  able  to  pro- 
duce before  Jesus  say  to  him,  *'  Well  done, 
good  and  faithful  servant ;  enter  thou  into 
the  joy  of  thy  Lord."  The  Bible  announ- 
ces those  qualities  which  a  man  must  have, 
in  order  to  prove  him  born  from  above  ;  but 
it  does  not  tell  what  quantity  of  each  he  must 
exhibit,  in  order  to  secure  the  smile  of  his 
Master,  and  an  abundant  entrance  into  his 
heavenly  kingdom.  By  this  definiteness  on 
the  outward  side,  it  leaves  no  room  for  hy- 


72  LIFE    IN    EARNEST, 

pocrisy ;  but,  by  this  indefiniteness  on  the 
inner  side,  it  leaves  large  place  for  the  works, 
and  service,  and  faith,  and  patience — th© 
filial  enterprise,  the  affectionate  voluntaries> 
and  free-will  offerings — of  those  who  know 
no  limit  to  their  labcwTs,  except  tlie  limit  of 
their  love  to  Christ. 

You  will  observe,  that  at  the  time  when 
you  became  a  disciple  of  Christ,  your  Lord 
and  Master  takes  the  whole  domain  of  your 
employments  under  his  own  juidsdiction. 
He  requires  you  to  consecrate  your  ordina- 
ry calling  to  him,  assd  to  do,  over  and  above, 
many  special  things  expressly  for  himself. 
Whatsoever  you  do,  in  word  or  deed,  he 
desires  that  you  should  do  it  in  Ms  name  : 
not  working  like  a  worldling,  and  praying 
like  a  Christian,  but  both  in  work  and  pray- 
er, both  in  things  secular  and  things  sacred, 
setting  himself  before  you,  carrying  out  his 
rules,  and  seeking  to  please  him.  One  is 
your  Master,  even  Christ,  and  he  is  your 
master  in  everything — the  master  of  your 
thoughts,  your  words,  your  family  arrange- 


AN  EYE  TO  THE  LORD  JESUS.      73 

ments,  your  business  transactions — the  mas- 
ter of  your  working  time,  as  well  as  of  your 
sabbath-day — the  Lord  of  your  shop  and 
counting-room,  as  well  as  of  your  closet  and 
your  pew — because  the  Lord  of  your  affec- 
tions, the  proprietor  of  your  very  self  be- 
sides. The  Christian  is  one  who  may  do 
many  things  from  secondary  motives — from 
the  pleasure  they  afford  his  friends — from 
the  gratification  they  give  to  his  own  tastes 
and  predilections — from  his  abstract  convic- 
tions of  what  is  honest,  lovely,  and  of  good 
report ;  but  his  main  and  predominant  mo- 
tive— that  which  is  paramount  over  every 
other,  and  which,  when  fully  presented,  is 
conclusive  against  every  other — is  affection 
for  his  heavenly  Friend.  One  is  his  Mas- 
ter, even  Christ,  and  the  love  of  Christ  con- 
straineth  him. 

Look  now  at  the  advantages  of  a  motive 
like  this.  See  how  loyalty  to  Christ  secures 
dihgence  in  business — whether  that  be  busi- 
ness strictly  rehgious  or  business  more  mis- 
cellaneous. 

7 


74  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

1.  Love  to  Christ  is  an  abiding  motive. 
It  is  neither  a  fancy,  nor  a  sentiment,  nor 
an  evanescent  emotion.  It  is  a  principle — 
cahu,  steady,  undecaying.  It  was  once  a 
problem  in  mechanics  to  find  a  pendulum 
which  should  be  equally  long  in  all  weath- 
ers— which  should  make  the  same  number 
of  vibrations  in  the  summer's  heat  and  in  the 
winter's  cold.  They  have  now  found  it 
out.  By  a  process  of  compensations  they 
make  the  rod  lengthen  one  way  as  much  as 
it  contracts  another,  so  that  the  centre  of 
motion  is  always  the  same :  the  pendulum 
swings  the  same  number  of  beats  in  a  day 
of  January  as  in  a  day  of  June  ;  and  the  in- 
dex travels  over  the  dial-plate  with  the  same 
uniformity,  whether  the  heat  try  to  lengthen 
or  the  cold  to  shorten  the  propelling  power. 
Now  the  moving  power  in  some  men's  minds 
is  sadly  susceptible  of  surrounding  influen- 
ces. It  is  not  principle,  but  feeling,  which 
forms  their  pendulum-rod  ;  and  according 
as  this  very  variable  material  is  affected, 
their  index  creeps  or  gallops,  they  are  swift 


AN  EYE  TO  THE  LORD  JESUS.      75 

or  slow  in  the  work  given  them  to  do.  But 
principle  is  like  the  compensation-rod,  which 
neither  lengthens  in  the  languid  heat,  nor 
shortens  in  the  brisker  cold  ;  but  does  the 
same  work  day  by  day,  whether  the  ice- 
winds  whistle,  or  the  simoom  glows.  Of 
all  principles,  a  high-principled  affection  to 
the  Savior  is  the  steadjpst  and  most  secure. 
Other  incentives  to  action  are  apt  to  alter  or 
lose  their  influence  altogether.  You  once 
did  many  things  for  the  sake  of  friends  whose 
wishes  expressed  or  understood  were  your 
incentive,  and  whose  ready  smile  was  your 
recompense.  But  that  source  of  activity  is 
closed.  Those  friends  are  now  gone  where 
your  industry  can  not  enrich  them,  nor  your 
kindness  comfort  them.  Or  if  they  remain, 
they  are  no  longer  the  same  that  once  they 
were.  The  magic  Hght  has  faded  from  off 
them.  The  mysterious  interest  which  hov- 
ered round  them  has  gone  up  Uke  a  moun- 
tain-mist, and  left  them  in  their  wintry  cold- 
ness or  natural  ruggedness  :  no  longer  those 
whom  once  you  took  them  to  be.     Or  you 


76  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

did  many  things  for  fame ;   and  were  well 
requited  for  a  winter's  work  when  the  ho- 
sanna  of  a  tumultuous  assembly,  or  the  psean 
of  a  newspaper  paragraph,  proclaimed  you 
the  hero  of  the  hour.     But  even  that  sort 
of  satisfaction  has  passed  away,  and,  meager 
diet  as  these  plaudits  always  were,  you  stand 
on  the  hungry  pinnatle,  and,  like  other  as- 
pirants of  the  same  desert-roaming  school,* 
you  snuff;  but,  alas !  the  breeze  has  changed. 
The  popular  taste,  the  wind  of  fashion,  has 
entirely  veered  about ;  and,  except  an  occa- 
sional tantalizing  whiff  from  the  oasis  of  a 
receding  popularity,  the  sweet  gust  of  its 
green  pastures  regales  you  no  more.     Or 
you  used  to  work   for  money — for  literal 
bank-notes  and  pieces  of  minted  metal ;  yes, 
mere  money  was  your  motive.     And  you 
would  sit  up  till  midnight,  or  rise  in  the 
drowsy  morning,  to  get  one   piece  more. 
And  so  truly  was  this  money  your  chief 
end — "  Where  the  treasure  is,  there  will 
the  heart  be  also" — do  you  not  feel  as  if 
*  Jeremiah  xiv.  6. 


AN    EYE    TO    THE    LORD    JESUS.  77 

your  money-safe  were  the  metropolis  of 
your  affections  ?  Where  your  money  is,  is 
not  your  heart  there  also  ?  Were  your  for- 
tune to  clap  its  wings  and  fly  away,  would 
not  you  feel  as  if  your  happiness  had  fled 
away  ?  Have  not  your  very  thoughts  got 
a  golden  tinge  ? — and,  tracing  some  of  this 
sabbath's  meditations  back  to  their  source, 
would  you  not  soon  land  in  the  till,  the 
exchange,  the  counting-room  ?  Is  not  gold 
your  chiefest  joy?  But  have  not  flashes  of 
truth  from  time  to  time  dismayed  you  ? — 
"  What  am  I  living  for?  For  a  make-be- 
lieve like  this  ?  for  a  glittering  cheat  which 
(in  the  way  that  I  am  using  it)  will  be  for- 
gotten in  heaven  or  felt  like  a  canker  in  hell  ? 
How  shall  I  wake  up  my  demented  self 
from  this  spell-dream,  and  seek  some  surer 
bliss,  some  more  enduring  joy?  For  grant 
that  I  shall  be  buried  in  a  coflin  of  gold, 
and  commemorated  in  a  diamond  shrine, 
what  the  happier  will  it  make  the  me  that 
then  shall  be  ?"  And  even  without  these 
brighter  convictions,  without  these  momen- 
7* 


78  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

tary  I  veaks  in  the  general  dellnam  of  covet- 
ousneas,  do  you  not  feel  a  duller  dissatisfac- 
tion occasionally  creeping  over  you  and  par- 
alyzing your  busy  efforts  ?  "  Well — is  this 
right?  This  headlong  hunt  of  fortune,  is  it 
the  end  for  which  my  Creator  sent  me  into 
the  world?  Is  Jit  the  highest  end  for  which 
my  immortal  self  can  live  ?  Is  it  the  best 
way  of  bestowing  that  single  sojourn  in  this 
probation-world  which  God  has  given  me  ? 
And  what  am  I  the  better  ?  Ami  sure  that 
I  myself  am  the  happier  for  it  ?  Dare  I 
flatter  myself  that,  in  bequeathing  so  much 
money,  I  bequeath  to  my  children  consoli- 
dated happiness,  a  sure  and  certain  good, 
an  inevitable  blessing  ?"  And  such  intru- 
sive thoughts,  whose  shadows,  at  least,  flit 
across  most  serious  minds,  are  very  damp- 
ing to  effort — very  deadening  to  diligence 
in  business.  Merely  serving  your  friends 
— in  mere  pursuit  of  fame — merely  seeking 
a  fortune — you  are  in  constant  danger  of 
having  all  motive  annihilated,  and  so  all  ef- 
fort paralyzed.     But  whatever  be  the  busi- 


AN  EYE  TO  THE  LORD  JESUS.      79 

ness  In  hand — from  the  veriest  trifle  up  to 
the  subHmest  enterprise — from  binding  a 
shoe-latchet  to  preparing  a  highway  for  the 
Lord — if  only  you  be  conscious  that  this  is 
the  work  which  He  has  given  you  to  do, 
you  can  go  on  with  a  cheerful  serenity  and 
strenuous  satisfaction,  for  you  will  never  want 
a  motive.  And  it  is  just  when  other  mo- 
tives are  relaxing  into  languor,  that  the  com- 
pensation we  spoke  of  comes  into  play  ;  and 
the  constraining  love  of  Christ  restores  the 
soul  and  keeps  its  rate  of  activity  quick  and 
constant  as  ever.  The  love  of  Christ  is  an 
abiding  motive,  and  can  only  lose  its  power 
w^here  reason  has  lost  its  place.  No  man 
ever  set  the  Lord  before  him  and  made  it 
his  supreme  concern  to  please  his  Master 
in  heaven,  yet  lived  to  say,  "  What  a  fool 
am  I !  What  a  wasted  life  is  mine  !  What 
vanity  and  vexation  has  Christ's  service 
been  !  Had  I  only  my  career  to  begin  anew, 
I  would  seek  another  master  and  a  higher 
end."*  The  Lord  Jesus  ever  lives,  and 
*  See  Life  of  Rev.  Henry  Venn,  under  A.  D.  1785, 


80  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

never  changes  ;  and  therefore  the  believer's 
love  to  his  Savior  never  dies.  Growing 
acquaintance  may  bring  out  new  aspects  of 
his  character ;  but  it  will  never  disclose  a 
reason  why  the  believing  soul  should  love 
him  less  than  it  loved  at  first.  Growing  ac- 
quaintance will  only  divulge  new  reasons 
for  exclaiming,  "  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  !" 
and  fresh  motives  for  living,  not  unto  our- 
selves, but  unto  Him  that  loved  us  and  gave 
himself  for  us. 

2.  Love  to  Christ  is  a  motive  equal  to 
all  emergencies.  There  is  a  ruling  passion 
in  every  mind ;  and  when  every  other  con- 
sideration has  lost  its  power,  this  ruling  pas- 
sion retains  its  influence.  When  they  were 
probing  among  his  shattered  ribs  for  the 
fatal  bullet,  the  French  veteran  exclaimed, 
*'  A  little  deeper,  and  you  will  find  the  em- 
peror." The  deepest  affection  in  a  believing 
soul  is  the  love  of  its  Savior.  Deeper  than 
the  love  of  home — deeper  than  the  love  of 
kindred,  deeper  than  the  love  of  rest  and 
recreation,  deeper  than  the  love  of  life — is 


AN  EYE  TO  THE  LORD  JESUS.      81 

the  love  of  Jesus.  And  so,  when  other 
spells  have  lost  then*  magic,  when  no  name 
of  old  endearment,  no  voice  of  onwaiting 
tenderness,  can  disperse  the  lethargy  of  dis- 
solution, the  name  that  is  above  every  name, 
pronounced  by  one  who  knows  it,  will  kin- 
dle its  last  animation  in  the  eye  of  death. 
And  when  other  persuasives  have  lost  their 
power,  when  other  loves  no  longer  constrain 
the  Christian,  when  the  love  of  country  no 
longer  constrains  his  patriotism,  nor  the  love 
of  his  brethren  his  philanthropy,  nor  the  love 
of  home  his  fatherly  affection — the  love  of 
Christ  will  still  constrain  his  loyalty.  There 
is  a  love  to  Jesus  which  nothing  can  de- 
stroy. There  is  a  leal-heartedness  which 
refuses  to  let  a  much-loved  Savior  go,  even 
when  the  palsied  arm  of  affection  is  no  long- 
er conscious  of  the  benignant  form  it  em- 
braces. There  is  a  love,  which  amid  the 
old  and  weary  "  feel"  of  waning  years  re- 
news its  youth,  and  amid  outward  misery 
and  inward  desolation  preserves  its  immor- 
tal root ;  which,  even  when  the  glassy  eye 


82  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

of  hunger  has  forgot  to  sparkle,  and  the  joy 
at  the  heart  can  no  longer  mantle  on  the 
withered  cheek,  still  holds  on,  faithful  to 
Jesus,  though  the  flesh  be  faint.  This  was 
the  love  which  made  Paul  and  Silas,  fa- 
tigued and  famished  as  they  were,  and  sleep- 
less with  pain,  sing  praise  so  loud  that  their 
fellow-prisoners  heard  and  wondered.  This 
was  the  love  which  burned  in  the  apostle's 
breast,  even  when  buffeting  the  Adriatic's 
wintry  brine,  and  made  the  work  which  at 
Rome  awaited  him  beam  like  a  star  of  hope 
through  the  drowning  darkness  of  that  dis- 
mal night.  This  was  the  love  which  thawed 
his  pen,  when  the  moan  of  wintry  winds 
made  him  miss  the  cloak  he  left  at  Troas, 
and  impelled  him  to  write  to  Timothy  a  tes- 
tamentary entreaty  to  "  hold  fast"  the  truths 
which  were  hastening  himself  to  martyrdom. 
Devotedness  to  Christ  is  a  principle  which 
never  dies,  and  neither  does  the  diligence 
which  springs  from  it. 

Dear  brethren,  get  love  to  the  Lord  Je- 
sus, and  you  have  everything.     Union  to 


AN  EYE  TO  THE  LORD  JESUS.      83 

Jesus  is  salvation.  Love  to  Jesus  is  re- 
ligion. Love  to  the  Lord  Jesus  is  essen- 
tial  and  vital  Christianity.  It  is  the  main- 
spring of  the  life  of  God  in  the  soul  of  man. 
It  is  the  all-inclusive  germe,  which  involves 
within  it  every  other  grace.  It  is  the  per- 
vasive spirit,  without  which  the  most  correct 
demeanor  is  but  dead  works,  and  the  seem- 
liest exertions  are  an  elegant  futility.  Love 
to  Christ  is  the  best  incentive  to  action — • 
the  best  antidote  to  idolatry.  It  adorns  the 
labors  which  it  animates,  and  hallows  the 
friendships  which  it  overshadows.  It  is  the 
smell  of  the  ivory  wardrobe — the  precious 
perfume  of  the  believer's  character — the  fra- 
grant mystery  which  only  lingers  round  those 
souls  which  have  been  to  a  better  clime.  Its 
operation  is  most  marvellous ;  for  when  there 
is  enough  of  it,  it  makes  the  timid  bold,  and 
the  slothful  diligent.  It  puts  eloquence  into 
the  stammering  tongue,  and  energy  into  the 
withered  arm,  and  ingenuity  into  the  dull, 
lethargic  brain.  It  takes  possession  of  the 
soul,  and  a  joyous  lustre  beams  in  languid 


84  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

eyes,  and  wings  of  new  obedience  sprout 
from  lazy,  leaden  feet.  Love  to  Christ  is 
the  soul's  true  heroism,  which  courts  gigan- 
tic feats,  which  selects  the  heaviest  loads 
and  the  hardest  toils,  which  glories  in  trib- 
ulations, and  hugs  reproaches,  and  smiles  at 
death  till  the  king  of  terrors  smiles  again. 
It  is  the  aliment  which  feeds  assurance — 
the  opiate  which  lulls  suspicions — the  ob- 
livious draught  which  scatters  misery,  and 
remembers  poverty  no  more.  Love  to  Je- 
sus is  the  beauty  of  the  beheving  soul ;  it  is 
the  elasticity  of  the  willing  steps,  and  the 
brightness  of  the  glowing  countenance.  If 
you  would  be  a  happy,  a  holy,  and  a  use- 
ful Christian,  you  must  be  an  eminently 
Christ-loving  disciple.  If  you  have  no  love 
to  Jesus  at  all,  then  you  are  none  of  his. 
But  if  you  have  a  little  love — ever  so  little 
— a  little  drop,  almost  frozen  in  the  cold- 
ness of  your  icy  heart — oh  !  seek  more. 
Look  to  Jesus,  and  cry  for  the  Spirit  till 
you  find  your  love  increasing ;  till  you  find 
it  drowning  besetting  sins  ;  till  you  find  it 


AN    EYE    TO    THE    LORD    JESUS.  35 

drowning  guilty  fears — rising,  till  it  touch 
that  index,  and  open  your  closed  lips — ri- 
sing, till  every  nook  and  cranny  of  the  soul 
is  filled  with  it,  and  all  the  actions  of  life 
and  relations  of  earth  are-  pervaded  by  it — 
rising,  till  it  swell  up  to  the  brim,  and,  like 
the  apostle's  love,  rush  over  in  a  full  assu- 
rance :  "  Yes,  I  am  persuaded,  that  neither 
death,  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  principalities, 
nor  powers,  nor  things  present,  nor  things  to 
come,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other 
creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from 
the  love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus 
our  Lord." 

& 


LIFE    IN   EARNEST. 


LECTURE   IV. 

A  FERVENT  SPIRIT. 

"Fervent  in  spirit." — Romans  xii.  11. 

The  description  of  work  which  a  man 
performs  will  depend  very  much  on  the 
master  whom  he  serves  ;  but  the  amount 
and  quality  of  that  work  will  depend  as  much 
on  the  mood  of  mind  in  which  he  does  it. 
The  master  may  be  good,  and  the  things 
which  he  commands  may  be  good  ;  but  un- 
less the  servant  have  an  eager,  willing  mind, 
little  work  may  be  done,  and  that  little  may 
not  be  well  done.  This  is  the  glory  of  the 
gospel.     It  not  only  invites  you  to  be  the 


A    FERVENT    SPIRIT.  .    87 

disciples  of  a  Savior,  whose  requirements 
are  as  worthy  of  your  most  strenuous  obe- 
dience as  he  himself  is  worthy  of  your  warm- 
est love,  but  it  undertakes  to  give  you  the 
energy  and  enterprise  which  the  service  of 
such  a  master  demands.  Besides  assigning 
a  good  and  honorable  work  for  your  "  busi- 
ness," and  Him  whom  principalities  and 
powers  adore  for  your  master,  the  gospel 
offers  you  the  zealous  mind  which  such 
a  work  requires,  and  which  such  a  master 
loves. 

But  what  is  a  fervent  spirit  ? 

1.  It  is  a  believing  spirit.  Few  men  have 
faith.  There  are  few  to  whom  the  Word 
of  God  is  solid,  to  whom  "  the  things  hoped 
for"  are  substantial,  or  "  the  things  unseen" 
evident.  There  are  few  who  regard  the 
Lord  Jesus  as  living  now,  or  as  taking  a 
real  and  affectionate  charge  of  his  people 
here  on  earth.  There  are  few  who  yet  ex- 
pect to  see  him,  and  who  are  laying  their 
account  with  standing  before  his  great  white 
throne.     But  the  believer  has  got  an  open 


88  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

\ 

eye.  He  has  looked  within  the  veil.  He 
knows  that  the  things  seen  are  temporal, 
and  the  things  unseen  are  eternal.  He 
knows  that  the  Lord  Jesus  lives,  and  that 
though  unseen,  he  is  ever  near.  He  may 
often  forget,  but  he  never  doubts  his  prom- 
ise :  "  And  lo  !  I  am  with  you  always." 
This  assurance  of  his  ascending  Savior,  ev- 
ery time  he  recalls  it,  infuses  alacrity,  ani- 
mation, earnestness.  The  faith  of  this  is 
fervor.  "Yes,  blessed  Savior!  art  thou 
present  now  ?  and  seest  thou  thy  disciple 
trifling  thus  ?  Is  the  book  of  remembrance 
filling  up,  and  are  these  idle  words  and  wast- 
ed hours  my  memorial  there  ?  And  art  thou 
coming  quickly  and  bringing  thy  reward, 
to  give  each  servant  as  his  work  shall  be  ? 
And  is  this  my  '  work  V  Lord,  help  my 
unbelief.  Dispel  my  drowsiness.  Sup- 
plant my  sloth,  and  perfect  thy  strength  in 
me." 

2.  A  fervent  spirit  is  an  affectionate  spir- 
it. It  is  one  which  cries  Abba,  Father.  It 
is  full  of  confidence  and  love.     Peter  had  a 


A   FERVENT    SPIRIT.  89 

fervent  spirit,  but  it  would  be  hard  to  say 

whether  most  of  his  fervor  flowed  through 
the  outlet  of  adoration  or  activity.  You  re- 
member with  what  a  burst  of  praise  his  first 
epistle  begins,  and  how  soon  he  passes  on 
to  practical  matters.  "  Blessed  be  the  God 
and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  which 
according  to  his  abundant  mercy,  hath  be- 
gotten us  again  unto  a  lively  hope  by  the 
resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ  from  the  dead, 
to  an  inheritance  incorruptible  and  undefiled, 
and  that  fadeth  not  away." — "  Wherefore 
laying  aside  all  mahce,  and  all  guile  and  hy- 
pocrisies, and  all  evil  speakings,  as  new- 
born babes,  desire  the  sincere  milk  of  the 
word,  that  ye  may  grow  thereby." — "  Like- 
wise, ye  wives,  be  in  subjection  to  your  own 
husbands." — "  The  elders  which  are  among 
you  I  exhort,  who  am  also  an  elder."*  And 
as  in  his  epistle,  so  in  his  living  character. 
His  full  heart  put  force  and  promptitude 
into  every  movement.  Is  his  master  en- 
compassed by  fierce  ruffians  ?     Peter's  ar- 

•  1  Peter,  commencement  of  chapters  i.,  ii.,  iii.,  v. 

8* 


90  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

dor  flashes  in  his  ready  sword,  and  converts 
the  GaHlean  boatman  into  the  soldier  in- 
stantaneous. Is  there  a  rumor  of  a  resur- 
rection from  Joseph's  tomb  ?  John's  nim- 
bler foot  distances  his  older  friend,  but  Pe- 
ter's eagerness  outruns  the  serener  love  of 
John,  and  past  the  gazing  disciple  he  bolts 
breathless  into  the  vacant  sepulchre.  Is  the 
risen  Savior  on  the  strand  ?  His  comrades 
secure  the  net,  and  turn  the  vessel's  head 
for  shore ;  but  Peter  plunges  over  the  ves- 
sel's side,  and,  struggling  through  the  waves, 
in  his  dripping  coat  falls  down  at  his  Mas- 
ter's feet.  Does  Jesus  say,  "  Bring  of  the 
fish  ye  have  caught  ?"  Ere  any  one  could 
anticipate  the  word,  Peter's  brawny  arm  is 
lugging  the  weltering  net  with  its  glittering 
spoil  ashore ;  and  every  eager  movement 
unwittingly  is  answering  beforehand  the 
question  of  his  Lord,  "  Simon,  lovest  thou 
me  ?"  And  that  fervor  is  the  best,  which, 
like  Peter's,  and  as  occasion  requires,  can 
ascend  in  ecstatic  ascriptions  of  adoration 
and  praise,  or  follow  Christ  to  prison  and 


A    FERVENT    SPIRIT.  91 

to  death  ;  which  can  concentrate  itself  on 
feats  of  heroic  devotion,  or  distribute  itself 
in  the  affectionate  assiduities  of  a  miscella- 
neous industry. 

3.  A  fervent  spirit  is  a  healthy  spirit. 
When  a  strong  spring  gushes  up  in  a  stag- 
nant pool,  it  makes  some  commotion  at  the 
first ;  and  looking  at  the  murky  stream  with 
its  flotilla  of  duckweed  tumbling  down  the 
declivity,  and  the  expatriated  newts  and 
horse-leeches  crawling  through  the  grass ; 
and  inhahng  the  miasma  from  the  inky  run- 
nel, you  may  question  whether  the  irrup- 
tion of  this  powerful  current  has  made  mat- 
ters any  better.  But  come  anon,  when  the 
living  water  has  floated  out  the  stagnant  ele- 
ments, and  when,  instead  of  mephitic  mud 
skimmed  over  with  a  film  of  treacherous 
verdure,  the  bright  fountain  gladdens  its  mir- 
rored edge  with  its  leaping  fulness,  then  trips 
away  on  its  .merry  path,  the  benefactor  of 
thirsty  beasts  and  weary  fields.  So  the  first 
manifestations  of  the  new  and  the  spiritual 
element  in  a  carnal  mind  are  of  a  mingled 


92  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

sort.  The  pellicle  of  decency,  the  floating 
duckweed  of  surface-seemliness,  which  once 
spread  over  the  character,  is  broken  up,  and 
accomplishments,  and  amusing  qualities — 
which  made  the  man  very  companionable 
and  agreeable — have  for  the  present  disap- 
peared. There  is  a  great  break-up  ;  and  it 
is  the  passing  away  of  the  old  things,  which 
is  at  first  more  conspicuous  and  less  pleas- 
ing, than  the  appearance  of  the  new.  In 
these  earlier  stages  of  regenerate  history,  the 
contrition  and  self-reproach  of  the  penitent 
often  assume  the  form  of  an  artificial  de- 
mureness  and  voluntary  humiHty ;  and  in 
the  general  disturbance  of  those  elements 
which  have  long  lain  in  their  specious  stag- 
nation, defects  of  character  formerly  hidden 
are  perceived  sooner  than  the  beauties  of  a 
holiness  scarce  yet  developed.  But  *'  Spring 
up,  O  well !  sing  ye  unto  it."  If  this  in- 
cursive 'process  go  freely  on — if  the  living 
water  spring  up  fast  enough  to  clear  out  the 
sedimentary  selfishness  of  the  natural  mind, 
with  its  reptile  inmates— if  the  inflowings  of 


A    FERVENT    SPIRIT.  93 

heavenly  life  be  copious  enough  to  impart  a 
truly  *'  fervent  spirit"* — come  again.  Sur- 
vey that  character  when  the  love  of  God  has 
become  its  second  nature.  In  place  of  the 
silt  and  evil  savor,  the  mean  and  sordid 
motives  which  once  fermented  there,  view 
the  simplicity  and  godly  sincerity,  the  light- 
welcoming  transparency,  which  reflects  the 
Sun  of  Righteousness  above  it  and  the  forms 
of  truth  around  it ;  and  instead  of  the  fast- 
evaporating  scantiness  of  its  former  selfish- 
ness, follow  its  track  of  diffusive  freshness 
through  the  green  pastures  which  it  glad- 
dens, and  beneath  those  branches  which 
gratefully  sing  over  it.t  Like  a  sweet  foun- 
tain, a  fervent  spirit  is  beneficent ;  its  very 
health  is  heahng  ;  its  peace  with  God  and 
joy  from  God  are  doing  constant  good ; 
the  gospel  of  its  smiling  aspect  impresses 
strangers  and  comforts  saints.  And  besides 
this  unconscious  and  incidental  usefulness, 

*  Compare  the  original,  rw  nvevfiaTi  ^eovres,  with  John 
iv.  14,  and  vii.  38,  39. 
t  Psalm  civ.  10,  12, 


94  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

its  active  outpourings  are  a  benefit  as  wide 
as  its  waters  run.  A  Christian  who  is  both 
active  and  fervent  is  doing  perpetual  good, 
and  good  in  the  most  benignant  way.  The 
substantial  service  he  does  is  doubly  blessed 
by  the  joyful,  loving,  and  hopeful  spirit  in 
which  he  does  it ;  and  though  it  were  only 
by  the  gladness  which  skirts  its  course,  and 
the  amenities  which  bloom  wherever  it  over- 
flows, beholders  might  judge  how  "  living,'* 
how  life-awakening  that  water  is,  which 
Jesus  gives  to  them  that  believe  in  him. 

The  best,  the  healthiest,  is  that  calm  and 
constant  fervor  we  have  now  described  ;  but 
just  as  there  are  intermitting  springs  which 
take  long  time  to  fill,  and  then  exhaust  their 
fulness  in  a  single  overflow — and  as  there 
are  geysers  which  jet  their  vociferous  waters 
high  in  air,  and  then  are  silent  for  long  to- 
gether— so  there  are  Christians  who  do  not 
lack  fervor,  but  it  comes  in  fits.  They  are 
intermitting  springs  ;  they  take  long  to  fill, 
and  are  emptied  in  a  single  gush.  Or  they 
are  geysers.     Some  years  ago  they  went  up 


A   FERVENT    SPIRIT.  **         95 

in  an  explosion  of  zeal — a  smoking  whirl- 
spout  of  fervor — but  all  is  cold  and  silent 
now.  The  water  is  living,  but  the  well  is 
peculiar  ;  it  is  only  periodically  filled  ;  it 
seldom  overflows.  But  just  as  you  would 
not  like  to  depend  on  an  intermitting  foun- 
tain for  your  cup  of  daily  water,  nor  to  owe 
the  irrigation  of  your  fields  to  the  precarious 
bounty  of  a  boiling  spring — as  the  well  near 
which  you  pitch  your  tent,  or  build  your 
house,  is  the  Elim  whose  bulging  fulness 
invites  you  to  plunge  your  pitcher  at  any 
hour,  and  whose  deep-fed  copiousness  is 
constantly  wimpling  off  in  fertilizing  streams 
— so  you  may  be  happy  to  perceive  the  in- 
cidental usefulness  even  of  that  zeal  which 
comes  fitfully  ;  but  you  would  select  as  the 
benefactor  of  the  church,  and  as  your  own 
resort,  the  full  heart  to  which  you  never 
can  come  wrong,  and  whose  perennial  re- 
dundance bespeaks  a  secret  feeding  from 
the  river  which  makes  glad  the  city  of  our 
God. 

4..  A  fervent  spirit  is  a  happy  spirit. — 


96        ^  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

Health  is  happiness.  Peace  with  God  is 
the  life  of  the  soul,  and  joy  in  God  is  its 
health.  That  assured  and  elevated  believer 
who  enjoys  everything  in  God  and  God  in 
everything,  must  needs  be  fervent.  His  in- 
ward blessedness  makes  him  bountiful,  and 
to  do  good  and  to  communicate  are  things 
which,  in  his  happy  mof)d  of  mind,  he  can 
not  help.  Some  Christians  are  too  deject- 
ed. They  got  under  the  covert  of  a  pecu- 
liar theology,  or  ensconce  themselves  in 
shadowy  caves  of  wilfulness,  or  pertinacity, 
or  unbelief;  and  then  complain  that  they 
can  not  see  the  Sun  of  Righteousness.  He 
lightens  the  world.*  Let  them  come  out 
beneath  his  beams,  and  at  once  they  will 
feel  the  fire.  Their  shivering  faith,  which 
with  them  is  rather  the  reminiscence  of 
heat,  than  a  resorting  to  its  unfailing  source, 
will  soon  mount  up  to  fervor.  To  look  to 
Jesus  is  to  come  to  God,  and  to  come  home 
to  God  is  to  be  happy.  An  estranged  or 
suspicious  spirit  can  not  be  fervent.  Then 
•  John  i.  9. 


A    FERVENT    SPIRIT.  \f-       97' 

some  Christians  are  not  fervent  because  they 
are  cumbered  with  so  many  things.  They 
carry  all  their  own  burdens,  and  from  their 
sympathizing  disposition  they  have  charged 
themselves  with  many  burdens  of  their  breth- 
ren also  ;  but  instead  of  devolving  these  per- 
sonal and  relative  solicitudes  on  an  all-suf- 
fering Savior,  they  carry  the  whole  melan- 
choly load  themselves.  A  fearful  or  a  fret- 
ful spirit  can  not  be  fervent ;  but  there  is  no 
need  for  a  believer  in  Jesus  to  be  troubled 
or  afraid.*  Let  him  deposite  all  his  anxie- 
ties in  that  Ear  which  is  gracious  enough  to 
attend  to  the  most  trivial,  and  leave  them  in 
that  Hand  which  is  mighty  enough  to  dis- 
perse the  most  tremendous  ;  and  relieved  of 
this  incubus,  his  spirit  will  acquire  an  elas- 
ticity equal  to  the  most  arduous  or  most 
multifarious  toils.  And  some  believers  are 
not  sufficiently  fervent,  from  being  strait- 
ened in  themselves.  They  do  not  open 
their  souls  to  those  felicitating  influences 
with  which  a  God  of  love  surrounds  them 

•  John  xiv.  1. 

9 


98  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

on  every  side.  There  is  as  much  comfort 
in  the  Word  of  God,  and  as  mnch  beauty 
in  his  works,  and  as  much  kindness  in  his 
dispensations,  as,  admitted  into  the  soul, 
would  inundate  it  with  ecstasy.  But  many 
hearts  are  perverse ;  they  let  gloomy  thoughts 
and  bitter  fancies  flow  freely  in,  and  are  al- 
most jealous  lest  a  drop  of  strong  consola- 
tion should  trickle  through  on  this  deluge 
of  Marah.  Brethren,  it  depends  on  which 
floodgate  you  open,  whether  you  be  drowned 
in  a  tide  of  joy  or  of  sorrow.  It  depends 
on  whether  your  well-springs  are  above  or 
beneath,  whether  your  consolation  or  your 
grief  abounds.  If  you  listen  to  what  the 
Amen,  the  Faithful  Witness,  is  saying,*  and 
what  God  the  Father  is  saying,t  and  what 
the  Spirit  and  the  Bride  are  saying,}:  and 
what  a  glorious  universe  is  saying,  ||  and 
what  the  gracious  events  in  your  daily  his- 
tory are  saying,*^  your  murmurings  will  sub- 

*  John  xiv.-xvi.  f  Matt.  iii.  17. 

t  Rev.  xxii.  17.  |I  Ps.  viii.,  xix.,  civ. 

§  Ps.  cvii.    Isaiah  xxxviii.  19.    Gen.  xxxv.  3. 


A   FERVENT    SPIRIT.  99 

side  into  silence,  and  your  vexing  thoughts 
will  be  drowned  in  gratitude.  Think  much 
of  God's  chief  mercy,  and  take  thankful 
note  of  his  lesser  gifts.  And  when  you 
have  put  on  this  girdle  of  gladness,  your  glo- 
ry will  sing  and  your  gratitude  will  dance.* 
Your  soul  will  be  happy,  and  your  joy  will 
find  outlets  of  adoring  praise  and  vigorous 
industry. 

5.  A  fervent  spirit  is  one  filled  with  the 
Spirit  of  God.  When  Jesus  cried,  '*  If 
any  man  thirst,  let  him  come  unto  me  and 
drink,"  and  promised  that  rivers  of  living 
water  should  flow  through  the  heart  of  the 
believer,  "  he  spake  of  the  Spirit,  which 
they  that  believe  on  him  should  receive." 
The  Holy  Spirit  is  actually  bestowed  on  the 
people  of  God.  He  is  to  them  a  better 
Spirit,  restraining  and  superseding  their 
own.  He  is  the  author  of  that  athletic  self- 
denial  and  flesh-conquering  fervor  of  which 
they  are  conscious  from  time  to  time.  It  is 
he  who  gives  such  delight  in  drawing  near 
*Ps.  XXX.  n,  12. 


100  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

to  God,  that  the  believer  at  seasons  could 
"  pray  and  never  cease  ;"  and  it  is  he  who 
gives  that  transforming  affection  to  the  per- 
son of  Christ,  and  that  heroic  ardor  in  the 
service  of  Christ,  to  which  inactivity  is  irk- 
some, and  silence  oppressive.  And  who- 
soever would  enjoy  the  gentle  manuduction 
which  leads  into  all  truth  and  all  duty — 
whosoever  would  persevere  in  the  placid  dis- 
charge of  allotted  labor,  and  maintain  amid 
it  all  a  calm  and  thankful  walk  with  God, 
must  put  himself  at  the  disposal  of  this  heav- 
enly Visitant.  The  heart  is  "  dry  as  sum- 
mer's dust"  from  which  the  Spirit  of  God 
departs  ;  and  that  is  the  believing,  loving, 
happy,  and  energetic  heart,  in  which  the 
Holy  Spirit  dwells. 

6.  A  fervent  spirit  is  a  prayerful  spirit. 
The  Holy  Spirit  is  the  New  Testament  gift 
most  absolutely  promised  in  answer  to  pray- 
er*— and  though,  perhaps,  the  gift  whose 
bestowpient  is  least  the  matter  of  a  lively 
consciousness  to  the  recipient  at  the  mo- 
•  Luke  xi.  13.     John  xiv.  14,  16:  xvi.  24. 


A    FERVENT    SPIRIT. 


161 


merit,  the  gift  from  which,  in  the  long-run 
of  life,  the  largest  and  most  important  re- 
sults are  evolved,  and  the  gift  which,  in  the 
retrospect  of  eternity,  the  believer  may  find 
that  he  enjoyed  more  abundantly  and  more 
constantly  than  he  himself  ever  imagined. 
As  it  IS,  there  are  times  when  the  presence 
of  this  Almighty  Comforter  is  easily  real- 
ized. When  the  soul  is  lifted  far  above  its 
natural  selfishness,  so  that  it  can  make  vast 
sacrifices  without  any  misgiving — when  for- 
tified against  its  natural  timidity,  so  that  it 
can  face  frightful  perils  without  any  trepida- 
tion— and  when  invigorated  with  such  un- 
wonted ardor  as  to  forget  its  natural  indo- 
lence, and  not  feel  its  inherent  weakness, 
the  soul  can  readily  understand  that  this 
mighty  strengthening  inwardly  is  the  work 
of  the  Holy  Spirit.  And  it  is  this  persua- 
sion which  brings  the  believer  strength  in 
weakness.  Conscious  of  lethargy  creeping 
over  him — alarmed  at  the  declension  of  his 
zeal,  and  the  waning  of  his  love — fearful  to 
what  his  present  apathy  may  grow,  and  re- 
9* 


102  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

membering  how  different  were  the  days  of 
old — he  breathes  a  prayer,  at  first  faint  and 
desponding,  but  still  a  prayer  :  "  Wilt  thou 
not  revive  us  again  ?  Awake,  O  north  wind  ; 
come  thou  south."  And,  while  he  is  yet 
speaking,  he  begins  to  revive.  As  if  the 
clear  weather  were  brio-htenino;  the  atmo- 
sphere,  the  great  realities  grow  distinct  and 
near.  The  things  eternal  are  seen  again, 
and  the  powers  of  the  coming  world  are  felt. 
His  soul  is  restored.  Or  a  great  work  is 
given  him  to  do,  and  his  strength  is  small. 
"  O  Lord,  with  thee  is  the  fountain  of  life. 
Lord,  pity  me,  for  I  am  weak."  And  the 
Lord  pities  him,  and  sends  forth  his  quick- 
ening Spirit ;  and  the  difficulty  is  surmount- 
ed, and  the  work  is  done  :  and,  without  so 
much  as  feeling  the  fire  and  water  which 
lay  between,  he  gains  the  wealthy  place. 

7.  A  fervent  spirit  is  one  which  easily 
sunders  a  man  from  selfishness,  and  sloth, 
and  other  besetting  sins.  On  a  winter's 
day  I  have  noticed  a  row  of  cottages,  with 
a  deep  load  of  snow  on  their  several  roofs ; 


A    FERVENT    SPIRIT.  103 

but,  as  the  day  wore  on,  large  fragments 
began  to  tumble  from  the  eaves  of  this  one 
and  that  other,  till,  by-and-by,  there  was  a 
simultaneous  avalanche,  and  the  whole  heap 
slid  over  in  powdery  ruin  on  the  pavement : 
and,  before  the  sun  went  down,  you  saw 
each  roof  as  clear  and  dry  as  on  a  summer's 
eve.  But  here  and  there  you  would  ob- 
serve one  with  its  snow-mantle  unbroken, 
and  a  ruff  of  stiff  icicles  round  it.  What 
made  the  difference  ?  The  difference  was 
to  be  found  within.  Some  of  these  huts 
were  empty,  or  the  lonely  inhabitant  cow- 
ered over  a  scanty  fire  ;  while  the  peopled 
hearth  and  the  high-blazing  fagots  of  the 
rest  created  such  an  inward  warmth  that 
grim  winter  relaxed  his  melting  gripe,  and 
the  loosened  mass  folded  off  and  tumbled 
over  on  the  miry  street.  It  is  possible  by 
some  outside  process  to  push  the  main  vol- 
ume of  snow  from  the  frosty  roof,  or  chip 
off  the  icicles  one  by  one.  But  they  will 
form  again,  and  it  needs  an  inward  heat  to 
create  a  total  thaw.     And  so,  by  sundry 


104  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

processes,  you  may  clear  off  from  a  man's 
conduct  the  dead  weight  of  conspicuous 
sins  ;  but  it  needs  a  hidden  heat,  a  vital 
warmth  within,  to  produce  such  a  separa- 
tion between  the  soul  and  its  besetting  ini- 
quities, that  the  whole  wintry  incubus,  the 
entire  body  of  sin,  will  come  spontaneously 
away.  That  vital  warmth  is  the  love  of 
God  abundantly  shed  abroad — the  kindly 
glow  which  the  Comforter  diffuses  in  the 
soul  which  he  makes  his  home.  His  ge- 
nial inhabitation  thaws  that  soul  and  its  fa- 
vorite sins  asunder,  and  makes  the  indo- 
lence, and  self-indulgence,  and  indevotion, 
fall  off  from  their  old  resting-place  on  that 
dissolving  heart.  The  easiest  form  of  self- 
mortification  is  a  fervent  spirit. 

8.  And  a  fervent  spirit  is  the  most  abun- 
dant source  of  an  active  life.  In  heaven 
there  is  a  perfect  activity,  because  in  heaven 
there  is  a  perfect  fervor.  They  are  all  hap- 
py there.  They  have  a  sufficient  end  in  all 
they  do.  There  is  no  wearying  in  their 
work,  for  there  is  no  waning  in  their  love. 


A    FERVENT    SPIRIT.  105 

The  want  of  a  sufficient  object  would  make 
any  man  idle.  A  friend  once  found  the 
author  of  "  The  Seasons"  in  bed  long  after 
noon  ;  and  upbraiding  him  for  his  indolence, 
the  poet  remarked  that  he  just  lay  still  be- 
cause, although  he  were  up,  he  would  have 
nothing  to  do.  But,  even  in  this  sluggish 
world,  there  are  those  whose  hearty  relish 
of  their  work  and  sense  of  its  importance  so 
inspire,  that  they  are  very  loath  when  slum- 
ber constrains  them  to  quit  it,  and  often  pre- 
vent the  dawning  in  order  to  resume  it.  It 
was  mathematical  fervor  which  kept  Newton 
poring  on  his  problems  till  the  midnight  wind 
swept  over  his  papers  the  ashes  from  his 
long-extinguished  fire.  It  was  artistic  fer- 
vor which  kept  Reynolds  with  the  pencil  in 
his  glowing  hand  for  thirty-six  hours  togeth- 
er, evoking  from  the  canvass  forms  of  beau- 
ty that  seemed  glad  to  come.  It  was  po- 
etic fervor  which  sustained  Dryden  in  a 
fortnight's  phrensy,  when  composing  his 
*'  Ode  on  St.  Cecilia's  Day,"  heedless  o( 
privations  which  he  did  not  so  much  as  per- 


106  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

ceive.  And  it  was  scientific  fervor  which 
dragged  the  lazy  but  eloquent  French  natu- 
ralist, BufFon,  from  beloved  slumbers  to  his 
still  more  beloved  studies,  for  many  years 
together.  There  is  no  department  of  human 
distinction  which  can  not  record  its  feats  of 
fervor.  But  shall  science,  with  its  corrup- 
tible crowns,  and  the  world,  with  its  vanities, 
monopolize  this  enthusiasm  ?  If  not,  let 
each  one  consider,  '*  What  is  the  greatest 
self-denial  to  which  a  godly  zeal  has  prompt- 
ed me  ?  Which  is  the  largest  or  the  great- 
est work  through  which  a  holy  fervor  has 
ever  carried  me  ?"* 

*  It  would  have  been  right,  had  there  been  room, 
to  mention  some  things  which  are  detrimental  or 
fatal  to  fervor  of  spirit.  1.  Guilt  on  the  conscience. 
2.  Debt  and  worldly  entanglements.  3.  Sabbaths  not 
sanctified.  4.  Late  and  frequent  visiting.  5.  Indul- 
gence in  frivolous  literature.  6.  Restraining  prayer. 
7.  A  wrong  theology. 


THE    THREEFOLD    CORD.  107 


LECTURE   V. 

THE    THREEFOLD    CORD. 

** Not  slothful  in  business ;  fervent  in  spirit;  serving  the 
Lord." — Romans  xii.  11. 

Were  vou  ever  struck  with  the  sobriety 
of  Scripture  ?  There  are  many  good  thoughts 
in  human  compositions,  and  many  hints  of 
truth  in  human  systems  ;  but  in  proportion 
as  they  are  original  or  striking,  they  border 
on  extravagance.  You  can  not  follow  thena 
fully  till  you  find  yourself  toppling  on  the 
verge  of  a  paradox,  or  are  obliged  to  halt 
in  the  midst  of  a  glaring  absurdity.  There 
are  many  excellent  ideas  in  the  old  philoso- 
phy, and  some  valuable  principles  in  the 


108:  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

ethics  of  later  schools  ;  but  they  all  show, 
though  it  were  in  nothing  but  their  extreme-' 
ness,  their  frail  original,  their  human  infirmi- 
ty their  wrong-side  bias.  And  so  is  it  with 
many  religious  systems,  built  on  insulated 
texts  of  Scripture.  They  are  not  without  a 
basis  of  truth,  but  that  basis  is  partial.  The 
extremeness  of  religionism  pounces  on  a 
single  text,  or  a  single  class  of  texts,  and 
walls  them  off  from  the  rest  of  revelation, 
and  cultivates  them  exclusively — bestows 
on  them  the  irrigation  of  constant  study,  and 
reaps  no  harvests  except  those  which  grow 
on  this  favorite  territory — and  looks  on  all 
the  rest  of  the  Bible  as  a  sort  of  common, 
an  unenclosed  waste,  a  territory  good  for 
little  or  nothing,  except  a  short  occasional 
excursion  ;  ay,  and  perhaps  frowns  on  an- 
other class  of  texts  with  a  secret  jealousy, 
as  texts  which  had  better  never  have  been 
there — a  dangerous  group,  whose  creeping 
roots  or  wafted  thistle-down  threaten  evil  to 
the  enclosure  of  their  own  favorite  little  sys- 
tem.    If  the  texts  so  treated  be  doctrinal. 


THE    THREEFOLD    CORD.  109 

the  result  of  this  partiality,  this  exclusive- 
ness  or  extremeness,  is  sectarianism  ;  if  the 
texts  so  treated  be  practical,  the  result  i«f> 
religious  singularity.  But  sectarianism  ot 
doctrine  and  singularity  of  practice,  whatev 
er  countenance  they  get  from  single  clauses 
and  detached  sentences  of  Scripture,  are 
contradicted  and  condemned  the  moment 
you  confront  them  with  a  complete  Bible. 
Hence  it  happens,  that  while  there  never 
was  a  doctrinal  or  practical  error  which  had 
not  some  text  to  stand  upon,  there  never 
was  one  which  dared  encounter  openly  and 
honestly  the  entire  Word  of  God.  In  other 
words,  there  has  seldom  been  an  error  which 
did  not  include  some  important  truth  ;  but 
just  as  surely  as  it  included  some  truth,  so 
it  excluded  others.  And  just  as  oxygen 
alone  will  never  make  the  atmosphere,  or 
hydrogen  alone  will  never  make  the  ocean, 
or  red  beams  alone  will  never  make  the 
sun,  so  one  fact,  or  one  set  of  ideas,  will 
never  make  the  truth.  A  truth,  by  abiding 
alone,  becomes  to  all  intents  an  error. 
10 


IIO  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

Nothing  can  be  more  different  from  the 
partiality  of  man  than  the  completeness  and 
comprehensiveness  of  Scripture.  Nothing 
can  be  more  opposite  to  man's  extremeness 
than  the  sobriety  of  Scripture.  It  does  not 
deal  in  hyperbole  or  paradox  ;  it  puts  the 
truth,  calmly,  fully,  and  in  all  its  goodly 
proportions.  Unlike  the  systems  of  man's 
invention,  its  ethics  do  not  flutter  on  the 
solitary  wing  of  one  only  virtue,  nor  do  they 
dot  along  on  the  uneven  legs  of  a  short  the- 
ology and  a  longer  morality.  Its  philan- 
thropy does  not  consist  in  hating  yourself, 
nor  does  its  love  to  God  require  you  to  for- 
get your  brother.  Its  perfection  of  charac- 
ter is  not  pre-eminence  in  one  particular, 
nor  does  it  inculcate  any  excellence  which 
requires  the  annihilation  of  all  the  rest. 
Though  neither  a  see-saw  of  counterpoising 
virtues  and  vices,  nor  a  neutral  mixture  of 
opposing  elements,  there  is  a  balance  of  ex- 
cellence, a  blending  of  graces,  in  the  gospel 
ideal  of  character.  It  forgets  neither  the 
man  himself,  nor  the  God  above  him,  nor 


THE    THREEFOLD    CORD.  Ill 

the  world  around  him.  It  teaches  us  to 
live  godly,  but  it  does  not  forget  to  teach  us 
to  live  righteously  and  soberly.  It  urges 
diligence  in  business,  but  it  does  not  omit 
to  enjoin  fervor  of  spirit  and  devotedness  to 
the  Lord. 

I  do  not  know  that  we  can  select  a  more 
opportune  exemplication  of  these  contrary 
principles — the  partiality  of  human  religion 
and  the  comprehensiveness  of  scriptural  re- 
ligion— than  the  text  with  which  you  are 
now  so  familiar,  and  the  treatment  which  its 
several  precepts  have  received  at  the  hands 
of  men.  I  think  it  may  be  very  easily  shown 
that  each  separate  clause  has  been  the  motto 
of  a  several  sect,  the  watchword  of  a  sepa- 
rate party  :  each  right,  so  far  as  it  remem- 
bered that  special  clause— each  wrong,  so 
far  as  it  forgot  the  other  two. 

1.  First,  "  Not  slothful  in  business." — 
There  have  been  in  all  ages  those  who  were 
very  willing  to  sum  up  religion  in  dischar- 
ging the  duties  of  their  calling.  If  they  were 
servants,  they  were  conscious  of  great  in- 


112  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

dustry,  and  a  real  attention  to  their  employ- 
ers' interest.  If  wives  or  mothers,  they 
were  notable  for  keeping  at  home,  and  car- 
ing after  their  own  concerns.  They  looked 
well  to  the  ways  of  their  household,  and  ate 
not  the  bread  of  idleness ;  and  could  the 
trim  threshold  and  each  tidy  arrangement 
of  the  well-ordered  dwelling  tell  the  full 
tale  of  anxious  thoughts,  and  early  rising, 
and  worrying  bustle,  which  have  been  ex- 
pended upon  them,  happy  the  empire  which 
had  such  prime  minister  as  rules  this  little 
realm.  If  men  of  business,  they  feel  that 
they  are  busy  men.  They  mind  their  own 
affairs,  and  do  not  interfere  in  other  men's 
matters.  They  are  at  it  late  and  early  ;  the 
summer's  sun  does  not  seduce  them  from 
their  dingy  counting-room,  nor  do  the  amen- 
ities of  literature  bewitch  them  from  the 
anxieties  of  money-making.  They  seldom 
treat  themselves  to  a  holy  day,  and,  what  is 
more  to  the  purpose,  they  do  not  despatch 
business  by  halves  ;  they  work  in  good  ear- 
nest.    They  feel  as  if  the  chief  end  of  man 


THE    THREEFOLD    CORD.  113 

Jay  somewhere  about  the  terminus  of  their 
own  trade  or  profession,  and  they  push  on 
accordingly.  Then  tiiere  mingles  with  it 
all  a  complacent  feeling.  "  It  is  not  for 
myself  I  thus  tug  and  strain,  and  grow  pre- 
maturely old  :  it  is  for  others.  *  He  that 
provides  not  for  his  own  house,  hath  denied 
the  faith,  and  is  w^orse  than  an  infidel.' — 
*  If  any  man  will  not  work,  neither  let  him 
eat.'  We  are  commanded  to  redeem  the 
time,  and  are  forbidden  to  be  slothful  in 
business."  And  if  to  this  again  should  be 
superadded  a  certain  amount  of  overt  and 
ostensible  religion — if  this  busy  man  or  cum- 
bered housekeeper  should  withal  read  a 
daily  chapter,  and  maintain  the  regular  form 
of  family  worship,  and  the  equally  regular 
form  of  churchgoing — above  all,  if  his  busi- 
ness should  prosper,  and  nothing  occur  to 
vex  his  conscience,  he  is  very  apt  to  feel — 
*'  What  lack  I  yet  ?  True,  I  pretend  to  no 
peculiar  sanctity  ;  but  I  believe  I  am  as 
Iionest,  and  industrious,  and  sober,  as  those 
who  do.  I  may  not  get  into  the  raptures 
10* 


114  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

into  which  some  try  to  work  themselves, 
nor  do  I  fuss  about  from  sermon  to  sermon 
and  from  meeting  to  meeting,  as  many  do ; 
but  I  believe  my  respect  for  religion  is  as 
real,  and  my  intentions  as  good,  as  theirs. 
And  though  I  do  not  lay  the  same  stress  on 
speculative  points  and  matters  of  faith,  no 
man  can  accuse  me  of  neglecting  the  weigh- 
tier matters  of  the  law."  Now  the  indus- 
trious element  in  this  character  is  good,  but 
if  this  be  the  whole  of  it,  in  the  Bible  bal- 
ance it  will  be  found  deplorably  wanting.  A 
man  may  be  all  that  you  describe  yourself, 
without  being  born  again  ;  he  may  be  all  this, 
and  his  heart  never  have  been  made  right  with 
God  ;  and  of  all  the  work  he  has  done  so 
heartily,  nothing  may  have  been  done  as  un- 
to the  Lord — in  the  animation  of  that  love, 
and  in  the  singleness  of  that  loyalty,  without 
which  the  most  fagging  toil  is  but  an  earnest 
self-idolatry.  And  he  may  be  all  this  with- 
out any  of  that  fervor  of  spint  which  will 
make  a  man  happy  in  that  world  where  the 
things  of  our  present  faith  are  the  visible 


THE    THREEFOLD    CORD.  115 

sources  of  joy,  and  where  psalm-singing  and 
the  other  outpourings  of  ecstatic  hearts  are 
the  exercises  most  cono^enial. 

2,  But  then  again — "  fervent  in  spirit." 
Others  have  erred  in  subliming  the  whole 
of  Christianity  into  fervor.  They  fancy  that 
there  is  no  outlet  for  piety  except  in  emo- 
tion. They  forget  that  the  engine  may  be 
doing  most  work  when  none  of  the  steam  is 
blowing  off ;  and  therefore  they  are  not  con- 
tent except  they  feel  a  great  deal,  and  live 
in  constant  exciteinent.  They  forget  that 
the  best  form  that  feeling  can  take  is  the 
practical  form — the  praying,  praising,  work- 
ing form.  Or  if  it  should  take  this  form, 
their  fervor  is  ill-directed.  It  is  not  fairly 
distributed  ;  they  are  fervent  in  secret  or  in 
the  sanctuary,  but  not  fervent  in  society  ; 
they  are  fervent  in  controversies,  but  not  in 
truths  conceded ;  they  are  fervent  in  the 
things  of  their  own  denomination,  but  not 
in  the  things  of  Jesus  Christ ;  or  if  fervent 
in  HIS  cause,  they  fix  on  the  fields  of  labor 
far  away,  and  contemn  those  nearer  home. 


116  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

Their  fervor  is  reserved  for  hallowed  jolaces 
and  devotional  hours,  and  does  not  pervade 
their  daily  life.  They  will  rise  from  a  prayer 
in  which  they  have  expatiated  on  the  glory 
of  the  latter  day — "  Thy  kingdom  come, 
thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven," 
and  some  ordinary  duty  is  awaiting  them  ; 
they  are  asked  to  fulfil  some  prosaic  ser- 
vice, to  do  some  such  matter-of-fact  em- 
ployment as  angels  in  heaven  are  apt  to  do  ; 
and  the  sight  of  actual  labor  disperses  their 
good  frame  in  a  moment .  their  praying  fer- 
vor is  not  a  working  fervor.  Or  they  have 
just  been  singing,  under  some  extraordinary 
afflatus,  a  hymn  about  universal  peace  or 
millennial  glory ;  but  the  unopened  letter 
turns  out  to  be  a  despatch  from  some  villa- 
nous  correspondent :  or  the  moment  the 
worship  is  over,  some  gross  negligence  or 
some  provoking  carelessness  accosts  them, 
and  the  instant  explosion  proves,  that  were 
they  living  in  the  millennium,  there  would 
be  at  least  one  exception  to  the  universal 
peace.     Or  they  have  come  back  from  some 


THE    THREEFOLD    CORD.  117 

jubilant  missionary  meeting,  where  their 
hearts  were  really  warm,  where  they  loudly 
cheered  the  speeches,  and  where  their  ears 
tingled  at  the  recital  of  some  affecting  in- 
stance of  hberality ;  and  they  are  hardly  safe 
in  their  homes,  when  the  ill-favored  collec- 
tor assails  them,  and  they  are  asked  for  the 
solid  sympathy  of  their  substance.  Yes — 
oh  ignominy  !  oh  bathos  ! — after  they  have 
given  their  tears,  asked  for  their  gold  !  And 
they  feel  as  if  it  were  a  fatal  transition,  a 
most  headlong  climax,  from  delicious  emo- 
tion down  to  vulgar  money.  And  thus  it 
is  that  they  continue  to  let  as  much  feeling 
vanish  in  inaction,  as  much  fervor  fly  off  in 
mere  emotion,  as,  if  turned  on  in  the  right  di- 
rection, might  have  propelled  some  mighty 
enterprise,  or  conducted  to  a  safe  and  joy- 
ful conclusion  many  a  work  of  faith  and 
labor  of  love. 

3.  "  Serving  the  Lord."  In  Old-Testa- 
ment times  it  was  not  unusual  for  persons 
of  eminent  piety  to  dedicate  themselves  en- 
tirely to  temple-service,  waiting  on  God  in 


118  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

prayer  continually  night  and  day.  Thus 
Samuel  was  dedicated  to  the  Lord  all  the 
days  of  his  life  :  so  we  presume  was  the 
maid  of  Gilead,  Jephthah's  daughter :  and 
so"  was  Anna  the  prophetess,  who  departed 
not  from  the  temple  the  eighty-four  years  of 
her  long  widowhood.  In  seeking  this  se- 
clusion they  were  practically  carrying  out 
the  psalmist's  devout  behest :  "  One  thing 
have  I  desired  of  the  Lord,  that  will  I  seek 
after ;  that  I  may  dwell  in  the  house  of  the 
Lord  all  the  days  of  my  life,  to  behold  the 
beauty  of  the  Lord  and  to  inquire  in  his 
temple."  And  a  pleasant  life  it  were,  away 
from  a  stormy  world  in  the  calm  pavilion 
of  God's  own  presence,  and  away  from  the 
tantalizing  phantoms,  vexing  cares,  and  stun- 
ning noise  of  delirious  mortality,  to  see  no 
beauty  less  soul-filhng  than  his  own,  and 
hear  no  voice  less  assuring  than  His  who 
says,  "  My  peace  I  give  unto  you."  But 
the  gospel  dispensation  is  not  the  era  of  an- 
chorets, and  recluses,  and  temple-devotees  ; 
or,  more  properly  speaking,  every  disciple 


THE    THREEFOLD    CORD.  119 

of  the  Savior  ought  to  be  alike  a  devotee. 
He  should  live  not  to  himself,  but  to  Him 
who  loved  him.  He  should  be  a  self-de- 
voted, a  dedicated  man — a  living  sacrifice, 
but  a  sacrifice  diffusing  its  sweet  savor  in 
the  scenes  of  ordinary  life,  and  regaling,  not 
heaven  alone,  but  earth,  with  its  grateful 
exhalations.  He  should  seek  to  behold  his 
Lord's  beauty  and  dwell  in  his  Lord's  pres- 
ence all  the  days  of  his  life  ;  but  now  that 
neither  Jerusulem  nor  Samaria  is  the  tem- 
ple, his  believing  heart  should  be  the  shrine, 
and  his  ascending  Savior's  promise — "  Lo, 
I  am  with  you" — should  be  the  Shekinah. 
Wherever  he  goes,  he  should  carry  his 
Lord's  presence  along  with  him;  and  what- 
ever he  is  doing,  he  should  be  doing  his 
heavenly  Master's  work.  However,  this 
life  of  active  devotedness  does  not  suit  the 
taste  of  many.  In  order  to  serve  the  Lord, 
they  feel  that  they  must  leave  the  living 
world.  They  must  off  and  away  to  some 
cleft  of  the  rock,  some  lodge  of  the  far  wil- 
derness, some — 


120  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

"  sacred  solitude, 
"  Where  Quiet  with  Religion  makes  her  home." 

To  be  diligent  in  business  they  feel  incom- 
patible with  serving  the  Lord  ;  and  even  that 
more  hallowed  business  which  is  occupied 
with  ministering  to  the  bodies  and  souls  of 
men  is  a  rude  break  in  their  retirement,  a 
jar  in  their  contemplative  joys.  They 
would  rather  be  excused  from  anything 
which  forces  them  into  contact  with  unwel- 
come flesh  and  blood,  and  reminds  them  of 
this  selfish  world  and  its  gross  materialism. 
Their  closet  is  more  attractive  than  the  cot- 
tage of  poverty  ;  meditations  of  the  rest 
which  remaineth  are  more  congenial  than 
toils  in  the  work  of  the  day ;  and  pensive 
lamentations  over  the  world's  wickedness 
come  more  spontaneous  than  real  earnest 
efforts  to  make  this  bad  world  better.  Now 
it  is  impossible  to  be  too  devoted,  if  that 
devotedness  make  you  correspondingly  fer- 
vent in  spirit  and  diligent  in  business.  You 
can  not  pray  too  much,  though  you  should 
pray  without  ceasing,  if  your  prayer  take  a 


THE    THREEFOLD    CORD.  121 

practical  direction,  and  lead  you  to  do  good 
without  ceasing.  But  it  is  just  as  possible 
to  run  away  from  the  Lord's  service  by 
running  into  retirement  as  by  running  into 
the  world.  In  the  retirement  of  the  ship, 
and  then  in  the  completer  retirement  of  the 
whale's  belly,  Jonah  was  as  much  a  rebel 
and  a  runaway  as  in  the  noisy  streets  of 
Joppa.  Had  he  wished  to  "  serve  the 
Lord,"  his  "  business"  was  to  have  been  at 
Nineveh.  And  it  little  matters  whether  it 
be  the  recluse  of  the  desert  who  absconds 
from  his  brethren,  and  leaves  the  sick  to 
tend  themselves,  and  the  ignorant  to  teach 
themselves,  and  the  careless  to  convert 
themselves — or  the  recluse  of  the  closet, 
who  leaves  the  neglected  household  to  take 
care  of  itself,  the  slipshod  children  to  look 
after  themselves,  and  the  broken  furniture 
to  mend  itself:  each  in  his  own  way  is  sloth- 
ful in  business,  under  a  self-deceiving  pre- 
text that  he  is  serving  the  Lord. 

Thus  you  perceive  that  each  of  the  three 
classes — the  mere  bustlers,  the  mere  feel- 
11 


122  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

ers,  and  the  mere  devotees — by  being  right 
in  only  one  thing,  are  ahogether  wrong. 
These  are  not  fancy  sketches,  nor  are  they 
studies  from  the  antique.  True,  you  may 
find  the  counterpart  of  the  first  class  in  the 
correct  morality  and  heartless  formalism  of 
that  worldly  professorship,  that  "  Whole  Du- 
ty of  Man"  Pharisaism  which  once  abounded 
in  these  very  lands.  And  you  may  repre- 
sent the  second  by  that  fifth-monarchy  fer- 
vor, that  unproductive  zeal,  which  has  mark- 
ed some  periods  of  the  church,  which  pos- 
sibly marks  some  sections  still.  And  you 
will  find  the  third  exemplified  in  all  the  mys- 
tic devotion  and  day-dreaming  quietism  of 
world-weary  recluses,  popish  and  protestant, 
in  every  age.  Though  all  can  quote  one 
fragment  of  this  text,  all  are  wrong,  by  not 
being  able  to  quote  the  whole.  Those  who 
are  diligent  in  business,  but  in  that  business 
do  not  serve  the  Lord,  their  selfish  diligence 
is  but  a  busy  idleness,  a  hypocritical  activi- 
ty. Their  time-bounded  and  self-reverting 
work  is  the  ineffectual  labor  of  the  convict 


THE    THREEFOLD    CORD.  123 

who  digs  the  pit  and  fills  it  up  again — who 
draws  water  from  the  well  and  pours  it  back 
again.  And  so  the  devotedness  which  re- 
sults in  no  diligence  is  hke  the  planning  of 
a  house  which  is  never  built,  the  daily  pur- 
posing of  a  journey  which  is  never  set  about. 
The  fervor  of  spirit  which,  withal,  is  sloth- 
ful in  business,  is  like  the  stream  falling  on 
the  mill-wheel,  but  the  connecting  shaft  is 
broken — and  though  the  wheel  turns  nim- 
bly round,  the  detached  machinery  stands 
still,  and  no  work  is  done  ;  or  like  the  dis- 
connected engine  and  tender,  which  bolt 
away  by  themselves,  and  leave  the  helpless 
train  still  standing  where  it  stood. 

Now  in  opposition  to  all  these  defective 
versions,  these  maimed  and  truncated  rep- 
resentations, this  verse  delineates  the  Chris- 
tian character  in  its  completeness,  hard- 
working, warmly-feeling,  single-eyed,  "  not 
slothful  in  business" — "  fervent  in  spirit" — 
**  serving  the  Lord."  And  if  you  look  at 
the  Christian  philosophy  of  the  subject,  you 
will  find  that  it  is  the  single  eye  which 


124  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

awakes  the  fervent  spirit,  and  the  fervent 
spirit  which  sets  the  busy  hands  and  feet  in 
wiUing  motion. 

1.  It  is  an  eye  fixed  on  Jesus  which  kin- 
dles the  fervent  spirit.  An  unconverted  man  , 
is  not  happy.  There  is  a  dull  load  on  his 
spirit — a  dim  cloud  on  his  conscience — he 
scarcely  knows  what  he  would  be  at — but 
he  certainly  is  not  happy.  If  a  considerate 
man,  he  is  aware  that  there  must  be  a  joy 
in  existence  which  he  has  not  yet  struck  out 
— a  secret  of  more  solid  bliss  which  he  hith- 
erto has  not  hit  upon.  He  is  not  at  peace 
with  God.  He  has  not  secured  an  expHcit 
reconciliation  with  his  Creator  and  Sover- 
eign. God's  frown  is  upon  him — a  frown 
as  wide  as  is  the  sinner's  universe.  Go 
where  he  may,  he  can  not  get  out  into  the 
clear  daylight  of  a  glad  conscience  and  a 
propitious  heaven.  And  it  is  not  till  he 
finds  his  way  into  the  Goshen  of  the  gospel, 
the  sun-lit  region  on  which  the  beams  of 
God's  countenance  still  smile  down,  through 
the  doorway  by  which  an  ascending  Savior 


THE    THREEFOLD    CORD.  125 

entered  heaven — it  is  not  till,  from  the  gross 
darkness  and  palpable  gloom  of  a  natural 
condition,  a  man  is  led  into  the  grateful  light 
and  glorious  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God — it 
is  not  till  then  that  he  knows  the  ecstasy  of 
undiluted  joy  and  the  perfection  of  that 
peace  which  passeth  all  understanding.  It 
is  not  till  the  Spirit  of  adoption  makes  him 
a  child  of  God  that  he  thoroughly  feels  him- 
self a  man  ;  and  it  is  in  the  sweet  sense  of 
forgiveness,  and  in  the  transporting  assu- 
rance that  he  is  now  on  the  same  side  with 
Omnipotence,  that  he  first  breathes  freely. 
The  thrill  of  a  sudden  animation  sweeps 
through  all  his  frame  ;  and,  encountering  an 
unwonted  gayety  all  around  him,  he  per- 
ceives an  unwonted  energy  within  him. 
Peace  with  God  has  brought  him  power 
from  God,  and  with  the  Lord  he  loves  to 
dictate,  there  is  no  work  which  he  is  loath 
to  do  ;  and  with  that  Lord  upon  his  side, 
none  which  he  can  not  hope  to  do.  The 
convict-labor  and  hireling-tasks  of  the  alien 
and  bondsman  are  exchanged  for  the  free- 
U* 


126  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

will  offerings  and  affectionate  services  of  a 
son  and  a  disciple.  Reconciled  to  God,  he 
is  reconciled  to  everything  which  comes  from 
God  ;  and  full  of  the  love  of  Christ,  he 
courts  everything  which  he  can  do  for  Christ. 
"  Come,  labor,  for  I  rather  love  thee  now. 
Come,  hard  work  and  long  work,  I  am  in  a 
mood  for  you  now.  Come,  trials  and  cross- 
es, for  I  can  carry  you  now.  Come,  death, 
for  I  am  ready  for  thee  now."  His  relation 
to  Christ  has  put  him  in  a  new  relation  to 
everything  else  ;  and  the  same  fountain 
which  has  washed  the  stain  from  his  con- 
science having  washed  the  scales  from  his 
eyes,  an  inundation  of  light  and  of  beauty 
bursts  in  from  the  creation  around  him, 
which  hitherto  was  to  him  as  much  an  un- 
known universe  as  its  Creator  was  the  un- 
known God  ;  and  the  boundless  inflowings 
of  peaceful  images,  and  happy  impressions, 
and  strong  consolations,  dilate  his  soul  with 
an  elasticity,  an  enterprise,  and  courage,  as 
new  as  they  are  divine.  He  has  found  a 
Savior,  and  his  soul  is  happy.     The  Lord 


THE    THREEFOLD    CORD.  127 

Jesus  is  his  friend  ;  and  his  spirit,  once  so 
frigid,  is  become  a  fervent  spirit.  His  new 
views  have  made  him  a  new  man. 

2.  The  fervent  spirit  creates  the  indus- 
trious life.  Sulky  labor  and  the  labor  of 
sorrow  are  little  worth.  Whatever  a  man 
does  with  a  guilty  feeling,  he  is  apt  to  do 
wrong  ;  and  whatever  he  does  with  a  mel- 
ancholy feeling,  he  is  likely  to  do  by  halves. 
Look  to  that  little  boy  sitting  down  to  his 
hated  lesson  after  a  burst  of  passion.  Do 
jou  notice  how  long  the  same  page  lies 
open  before  the  pouting  student,  and  how 
solemnly  he  watches  the  blue-bottle  raging 
round  the  room  and  bouncins;  ao:ainst  the 
window  ?  Look  at  his  blurred  copy-book, 
its  trembling  strokes  and  blotted  loops  a 
memento  of  this  angry  morning.  And  the 
sum  upon  the  slate,  only  here  and  there  a 
figure  right,  an  emblem  of  his  rebelHous 
mind,  all  at  sixes  and  sevens  with  itself.  It 
is  guilt  that  makes  him  a  trifler.  It  is  guilt 
that  makes  him  blunder.  Guilt  makes  him 
wretched ;   and   therefore   all  he   does  is 


128  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

wrong.  But  sometimes  grief  disables  or 
disinclines  for  exertion  as  much  as  guilt. 
You  may  remember  times  when  such  a  sor- 
row possessed  you,  that  you  not  only  forgot 
to  eat  your  daily  bread,  but  had  no  heart  to 
do  your  daily  work.  You  did  not  care  to 
set  your  house  in  order,  for  some  stunning 
intelligence  or  fearful  foreboding  had  para- 
lyzed all  your  energy.  You  did  not  care 
to  hear  your  children's  tasks,  for  the  shad- 
ows of  yon  sick-room  had  diffused  a  look 
of  orphanage  on  them  and  on  everything. 
And  the  more  delightsome  the  recreation 
once  had  been,  the  more  congenial  the  la- 
bor, so  much  the  deeper  was  the  funereal 
die  it  had  now  imbibed,  and  the  more  did 
your  heart  revolt  from  it.  Sorrow  makes 
the  eyes  heavy,  even  when  they  can  not 
sleep  ;  and,  for  inefficiency,  next  to  the 
blundering  work  of  a  guilty  conscience,  is 
the  dull  work  of  a  weary  or  wounded  spirit. 
If  you  could  only  shed  tranquillity  over  the 
conscience,  and  infuse  joy  into  the  soul,  you 
would  do  more  to  make  the  man  a  thorough. 


THE    THREEFOLD    CORD.  129 

worker  than  if  you  could  lend  him  the  force 
of  Hercules  or  the  hundred  arms  of  Briareus. 
Now,  the  gospel,  freely  admitted,  makes 
the  man  happy.  It  gives  him  peace  with 
God  and  makes  him  happy  hi  God.  Its 
strong  consolation  neutralizes  the  sting  of 
reluctant  labor  and  the  curse  of  penal  toil. 
Its  advent  of  heavenly  energy  takes  the  lan- 
guor out  of  life,  and  much  of  its  inherent 
indolence  out  of  lazy  human  nature.  It 
chases  spectres  from  the  fancy  and  lions 
from  the  street.  It  gives  industry  a  noble 
look  which  selfish  drudgery  never  wore  ; 
and  from  the  moment  that  a  man  begins  to 
do  his  work  for  his  Savior's  sake,  he  feels 
that  the  most  ordinary  works  are  full  of 
sweetness  and  dignity,  and  that  the  most 
difficult  are  not  impossible.  "  Through 
Christ  strengthening  me,  I  can  do  all  things." 
And  if  any  one  of  you,  my  friends,  is  weary 
with  his  work — if  dissatisfaction  with  your- 
self, or  sorrow  of  any  kind,  disheartens  you 
— if,  at  any  time,  you  feel  the  dull  paraly- 
sis of  conscious  sin,  or  the  depressing  in- 


130  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

fluence  of  vexing  thoughts — look  to  Je- 
sus and  be  happy.  Be  happy,  and  go  to 
work. 


I     r' 


A   WORD    TO    ALL.  131 


LECTURE    VI. 

A  WORD  TO  EACH  AND    TO    ALL CONCLU- 
SION. 


^ot  slothful  in  business ;  fervent  in  spirit ;  seixing  the 
Lord." — Romans  xii.  11. 


Christian  industry  is  just  the  outlet  of 
a  fervent  spirit,  a  Christ- devoted  heart. 
The  industry  which  is  not  fervent  is  not 
Christian,  and  on  the  other  hand,  the  love 
which  does  not  come  out  in  action,  the  fer- 
vor which  does  not  lead  to  diligence,  will 
soon  die  down.  He  who  has  an  eye  to 
Christ  in  all  he  does,  and  whose  spirit  is 
full  of  that  energy,  that  love  to  his  work 
and  his  brethren,  and  his  Master  in  heaven, 


132  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

which  the  Holy  Spirit  gives,  will  not  soon 
weary  in  well-doing. 

1.  Some  of  you  are  servants.  Some 
of  you  are  in  families  where  there  is  no 
fear  of  God,  and  some  of  you  serve  em- 
ployers who  take  no  interest  in  you,  who, 
however  hard  you  toil,'  and  however  well 
you  do  your  work,  never  thank  you  nor 
notice  your  exertions.  This  is  discour- 
aging ;  but  before  you  entered  that  family, 
had  you  not  entered  the  service  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ?  and  when  you  came  to 
this  new  place  you  surely  did  not  leave  this 
higher  and  nobler  service.  Very  true,  the 
individual  from  whom  you  receive  your 
immediate  orders  may  be  very  unreason- 
able, and  exceedingly  unamiable,  and  the 
thanks  you  get  may  be  sorry  remuneration 
for  your  conscientious  industry.  But  have 
you  not  a  Master  in  heaven,  whose  eye  is 
always  upon  you,,  who  takes  interested  note 
of  all  you  do,  and  who,  whatever  you  do 
in  secret  for  his  sake,  will  reward  you  open- 
ly?    You  do  not  mean  to  say  that  all  your 


A    WORD    TO    ALL.  133 

end  in  working  is  to  get  so  much  wages, 
with  a  kind  word  or  a  look  of  approval  now 
and  then.  If  you  carry  the  spirit  of  dis- 
cipleship  into  your  every-day  duties,  you 
will  find  that  there  is  a  way  to  make  the 
meanest  occupation  honorable  and  the  most 
irksome  employment  easy.  Work  which 
you  do  for  the  Lord's  sake,  will  never  be 
wearisome,  and  however  little  man  may  no- 
tice or  acknowledge  it,  your  labor  in  the 
Lord  will  never  be  vain.  And  I  know  not 
if  there  be  any  department  of  life  where 
there  is  more  abundant  room  for  a  truly 
Christian  ambition  than  the  calling  which 
you  occupy.  Whether  Jike  Eliezer  of  Da- 
mascus, you  serve  a  Father  of  the  Faithful, 
or  like  Joseph  and  the  Israelitish  maid,  be  in 
the  household  of  a  pagan  or  a  worldling ; 
you  have  singular  opportunities  for  adorn- 
ing the  doctrine  of  your  God  and  Savior. 
Good  man  as  Abraham  was,  and  good  man 
as  EHezer  was,  there  was  once  a  time  when 
Abraham,  in  a  tone  of  evident  disappoint- 
ment, said,  "  Behold,  to  me  thou  hast  giv- 
12 


134  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

en  no  seed,  and  lo,  one  born  in  my  house 
is  mine  heir."  But  so  completely  had  the 
consistent  kindness  and  fidelity  of  Eliezer 
won  the  affection  of  his  chief,  that  at  the 
last  Abraham  could  scarcely  have  wished 
a  better  heir  than  his  servant,  or  Eliezer 
found  a  more  indulgent  father  than  his  mas- 
ter. Joseph  had  no  motive  for  serving 
Pharoah,  except  that  anxiety  to  fulfil  an  im- 
portant ofiice  well,  and  that  hearty  love  of 
labor  which  distinguish  men  of  a  healthy 
mind  and  conscientious  spirit.  But  such  a 
zealous  charge  did  he  take  of  Pharoah's 
interests,  so  intelligently  and  sleeplessly  did 
his  eye  travel  through  the  realm,  that  Egypt 
wore  another  aspect  under  Joseph's  rule, 
and  its  revenues  became  as  rich  as  a  prov- 
ident and  benignant  administration  could 
make  them.  The  little  maid  of  Israel  was 
a  captive,  and  if  the  joy  of  the  Lord  had 
not  been  her  strength,  she  would  have  had 
no  spirit  to  work.  She  would  have  pined 
after  her  home  among  the  hills  of  Samaria, 
and  when  she  thought  of  the  pleasant  cot- 


A    WORD    TO    ALL.  135 

tage  from  which  fierce  ruffians  had  torn  her 
away,  and  named  over  to  herself,  one  by- 
one,  the  playfellows  whom  she  would  nev- 
er see  again,  she  would  have  broken  her 
young  heart  and  sat  down  in  sulky  silence, 
or  perhaps  have  died.  But  she  loved  the 
Lord  God  of  Israel;  and  as  he  had  sent 
her  to  Damascus  and  into  the  house  of  a 
heathen  lady,  she  made  up  her  mind  and 
set  to  work  right  earnestly,  and  soon  got  on 
to  take  a  real  interest  in  her  new  abode. 
She  loved  her  mistress  and  was  sorry  for 
the  deplorable  sufi^erings  of  her  afflicted 
lord,  and  suggested  the  visit  to  Elisha  which 
resulted  in  his  wondrous  cure.  And  both 
Joseph  and  the  little  maid,  by  serving  the 
Lord  with  a  fervent  spirit,  not  only  made 
their  own  life  pass  pleasantly  in  a  foreign 
land,  but  they  made  a  great  impression  on 
those  around  them.  Joseph's  God  was 
magnified  in  the  eyes  of  Pharoah,  and  the 
little  maid  soon  saw  Naaman  a  worshipper 
of  the  true  Jehovah.  And  you  who  are 
in  the  service  of  others,  seek  to  serve  tho 


136  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

Lord.  Perhaps  like  Joseph  and  the  little 
maid  you  are  far  from  home.  Perhaps  like 
them  you  are  doing  work  for  those  in  whom 
you  had  no  interest  formerly,  and  who  even 
now  have  not  the  fear  of  God  before  them. 
But  your  Lord  paramount  is  the  Lord  Je- 
sus himself;  the  real  Master  w^ho  has  sent 
you  here  and  given  you  this  uphill  work  to 
do  is  Christ ;  and  if  you  only  set  about  it 
for  his  sake,  with  a  happy,  interested,  reso- 
lute mind,  your  work  will  grow  every  day 
easier;  your  conscience  will  sing;  the  light 
of  the  Lord's  presence  will  gild  the  dim 
passages  and  stranger-looking  chambers  of 
your  place  of  sojourn  ;  your  character  will 
ere  long  commend  itself,  and  better  still, 
may  commend  your  Master  in  Heaven. 
"  For  he  that  in  these  things  serveth  Christ 
is  acceptable  to  God,  and  approved  of 
men." 

2.  Some  of  you  are  scholars  either  re- 
ceiving the  education  which  fits  for  ordinary 
life,  or  which  may  qualify  you  for  some 
particular  profession.     Here  too  you  have 


A    WORD    TO    ALL.  137 

need  of  industry.  I  hope  you  love  learn- 
ing for  its  own  sake ;  I  hope  you  love  it 
still  more  for  the  Lord's  sake.  The  more 
things  you  know,  and  the  more  things  you 
can  do,  the  more  respected,  and  consequent- 
ly, the  more  influential  and  useful  will  you 
hereafter  be.  If  you  grow  up  an  ignorant 
man  few  will  care  for  your  company.  Peo- 
ple will  be  laughing  at  your  mistakes  and 
your  blunders.  And  even  if  you  should 
be  wishful  to  do  good,  you  will  scarcely 
knew  how  to  set  about  it.  The  usefulness 
and  happiness  of  your  future  life  depend 
very  much  on  the  amount  of  soHd  learning 
and  graceful  accomplishments,  and  above 
all,  on  the  extent  of  bible  knowledge  which 
you  presently  acquire,  and  if  you  be  only 
willing  you  may  acquire  as  much  as  ever  you 
please.  Tc  use  the  words  of  the  most 
philosophic  of  British  Artists,  "Nothing  is 
denied  to  well-directed  diHgence."  Long 
ago,  a  little  boy  was  entered  at  Harrow 
School.  He  was  put  into  a  class*  beyond 
his  years,  and  where  all  the  scholars  had 
12* 


138  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

the  advantage  of  previous  instruction  de- 
nied to  him.  His  master  chid  him  for  his 
dulness,  and  all  his  own  efforts  could  not 
raise  him  from  the  lowest  place  on  the  form. 
But,  nothing  daunted,  he  procured  the  gram- 
mars and  other  elementary  books  which  his 
class-fellows  had  gone  through  in  previous 
terms.  He  devoted  the  hours  of  play,  and 
not  a  few  of  the  hours  of  sleep,  to  the  mas- 
tering of  these  ;  till  in  a  few  weeks  he  grad- 
ually began  to  rise,  and  it  was  not  long  till 
he  shot  far  a-head  of  all  his  companions, 
and  became  not  only  dux  of  that  division 
bjit  the  pride  of  Harrow.  That  boy,  whose 
career  began  with  this  fit  of  energetic  ap- 
plication, you  may  see  his  statue  in  St. 
Paul's  cathedral  to-morrow  ;  for  he  lived 
to  be  the  greatest  oriental  scholar  of  mod- 
ern Europe,  and  most  of  you  have  heard 
the  name  of  Sir  William  Jones.  God  de- 
nies nothing  in  the  way  of  learning  to  well- 
directed  diligence.  It  is  possible  that  you 
may  be  rather  depressed  than  stimulated 
when  asked  to  contemplate  some  first-rate 


A   WORD    TO    ALL.  139 

name  in  literature  or  science.  When  you 
see  the  lofty  pinnacle  of  attainment  on 
which  that  name  is  now  reposing,  you  feel 
as  if  it  had  been  created  there  rather  than 
had  travelled  thither.  No  such  thing.  The 
most  illustrious  in  the  annals  of  philosophy, 
once  on  a  time,  knew  no  more  of  it  than 
you  now  do.  And  how^  did  he  arrive  at  his 
peerless  proficiency?  By  dint  of  diligence, 
by  downright  painstaking.  When  Newton 
was  asked  how  he  came  by  those  discover- 
ies which  looked  like  divination  or  intuitions 
of  a  hio;her  intellio-ence  rather  than  the  re- 
suits  of  mere  research,  he  declared  that  he 
could  not  otherwise  account  for  them  unless 
it  were  that  he  could  pay  longer  attention 
to  the  subject  than  most  men  cared  to  do. 
In  other  words,  it  was  by  diligence  in  his 
business  that  he  became  the  most  renowned 
of  British  sages.  The  discovery  of  grav- 
itation, the  grand  secret  of  the  universe,  was 
not  whispered  in  his  ear  by  any  oracle.  It 
did  not  drop  into  his  idle  lap  a  windfall  from 
the  clouds.     But  he  reached  it  by  self-deny- 


140  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

ing  toil,  by  midnight  study,  by  the  large 
command  of  accurate  science,  and  by  bend- 
ing all  his  powers  of  mind  in  the  one  direc- 
tion, and  keeping  them  thus  bent.  And 
whatever  may  be  the  subject  of  your  pur- 
suit, if  you  have  any  natural  aptitude  for  it 
at  all,  there  is  no  limit  to  your  proficiency 
except  the  limits  of  your  own  pains-taking. 
There  is  no  wishing-cap  which  will  fetch 
you  know^ledge  from  the  east  or  west.  It 
is  not  likely  to  visit  you  in  a  morning  dream, 
nor  will  it  drop  through  your  study  roof 
into  your  elbow  chair.  It  is  not  a  lucky 
advent  which  will  alight  on  your  loitering 
path  some  twilight,  like  Minerva's  owl,  and 
create  you  an  orator,  an  artist,  or  a  scholar 
on  the  spot.  It  is  an  ultimatum  which  you 
must  make  up  your  mind  that  it  is  worth 
your  while  attaining ;  and  trudge  on  stead- 
ily toward  it,  and  not  count  that  day's  work 
hard,  nor  that  night-watching  long,  which 
advances  you  one  step  toward  it,  or  brings 
its  welcoming  beacon  one  bright  hope  near- 
er. 


A    WORD    TO    ALL.  14,1 

3.  Some  of  you  are  teachers.  It  is 
much  to  be  lamented  that  there  are  so  few 
enthusiasts  in  this  honorable  and  important 
work.  Many  who  are  engaged  in  it  regard 
it  as  a  bondage,  and  sigh  for  the  day  which 
shall  finally  release  them  from  its  drudgery 
and  din.  They  have  never  felt  that  theirs 
is  a  high  calling,  nor  do  they  ever  enter  the 
school-room  with  the  inspiring  conscious- 
ness, that  they  go  as  missionaries  and  pas- 
tors there.  They  undervalue  their  schol- 
ars. Instead  of  regarding  them  as  all  that 
now  exists  of  a  generation  as  important  as 
our  own  ;  instead  of  recognising  in  their 
present  dispositions  the  mischief  or  benefi- 
cence which  must  tell  on  wide  neighbor- 
hoods ere  a  few  short  years  are  run ;  in- 
stead of  training  up  immortal  spirits  and 
expansive  minds  for  usefulness  now  and 
glory  afterward,  many  teachers  have  never 
seen  their  pupils  in  any  other  light  than  as 
so  many  rows  of  turbulent  rebels,  a  rabble 
of  necessary  torments,  a  roomful  of  that 
mighty  plague  of  which  the  Nile  of  our 


142  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

noisy  humanity  is  all  croaking  and  jumping 
over.  And  many  undervalue  themselves. 
Instead  of  recollecting  their  glorious  voca- 
tion, and  eying  the  cloud  of  teacher-wit- 
nesses with  whom  they  are  encompassed  ; 
instead  of  a  high-souled  zeal  for  their  pro- 
fession, as  that  which  should  form  the  plas- 
tic mind  after  the  finest  models  of  human 
attainment  and  scriptural  excellence,  many 
regard  their  office  as  so  menial  that  they 
have  always  the  feeling  as  if  themselves 
were  pedants.  To  prescribe  the  task,  to 
hear  the  lesson,  to  administer  monotonous 
praise  and  blame,  is  the  listless  round  of 
their  official  perfunctoriness.  But  there  are 
few  fields  of  brighter  promise  than  the  call- 
ing of  a  teacher.  If  he  give  himself  wholly 
to  it,  if  he  set  before  him  the  highest  object 
of  all  tuition,  the  bringing  souls  to  Christ;  if 
he  can  form  a  real  affection  for  his  scholars, 
and  maintain  a  parental  anxiety  for  their 
proficiency  and  their  principles ;  if  he  has 
wisdom  enough  to  understand  them,  and 
kindness  enough  to  sympathize  with  them ; 


A   WORD    TO    ALL.  143 

if  he  has  sufficient  love  for  learning  to  have 
no  distaste  for  lessons,  he  will  be  sure  to 
inspire  a  zeal  for  study  into  the  minds  of 
many,  he  will  win  the  love  of  all  except 
the  very  few  whose  hearts  are  deaf-born, 
and  in  a  short  time  the  best  features  of  his 
own  character  will  be  multiplying  in  spheres 
far-sundered  in  the  kindred  persons  of 
grateful  pupils.  Should  he  live  long 
enough,  they  will  praise  him  in  the  gate  of 
public  hfe,  or  cheer  his  declining  days  in 
the  homes  which  he  taught  them  to  make 
happy.  Or  should  he  die  soon  enough, 
the  rest  from  his  labors  will  ever  and  anon 
be  heightened  by  the  arrival  of  another  and 
another  of  the  children  whom  God  hath 
given  him. 

But  without  descending  to  more  minute 
particulars,  let  me  remind  you,  my  friends, 
that  all  of  you  who  are  members  of  this 
church  have  got  a  special  "  business"  as 
the  professed  disciples  of  Jesus  Christ. 
In  the  day  when  Christ  said  to  you,  "  Arise, 
follow  me,"  he  called  you  to  a  life  like  his 


144  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

own,  a  life  of  industry  and  self-denial,  and 
continual  doing  good.  You  are  a  consis- 
tent Christian  in  proportion  as  you  resemble 
him  whose  fervent  spirit  poured  out  not 
more  in  his  midnight  prayers  than  in  his 
daily  deeds  of  mercy,  and  who,  whether  he 
disputed  with  the  doctors  in  the  Temple,  or 
conversed  with  the  ignorant  stranger  at  the 
well,  or  fed  the  five  thousand  with  miracu- 
lous loaves,  or  summoned  Lazarus  from  the 
tomb,  was  still  about  his  Father's  "busi- 
ness." They  little  understand  the  Chris- 
tian life,  who  fancy  that  a  slothful  or  lan- 
guid profession  will  secure  an  abundant  en- 
trance into  the  heavenly  kingdom.  If  the 
believer's  progress  from  the  cross  to  the 
crown  be,  as  it  is  again  and  again  repre- 
sented, a  race,  a  wrestling,  a  warfare,  a  fight, 
a  continual  watching,  and  a  constant  vio- 
lence, there  is  good  reason  for  the  exhor- 
tations, "give  diligence  to  make  your  call- 
ing and  election  sure.  We  desire  that  ev- 
ery one  of  you  do  show  diligence  to  the 
full  assurance  of  hope  unto  the  end  ;  that 


A    WORD    TO    ALL.  145 

ye  be  not  slothful,  but  followers  of  them 
who  through  faith  and  patience  inherit  the 
promises.  Wherefore,  brethren,  seeing  that 
you  look  for  such  things,  be  diligent  that 
you  may  be  found  of  him  in  peace,  with- 
out spot  and  blameless." 

It  needs  diligence  to  keep  the  conscience 
clean.  "  Herein  do  I  exercise  myself,  to 
have  always  a  conscience  void  of  offence 
toward  God  and  toward  men."  It  needs  • 
dihgence  to  keep  up  a  happy  hopefulness 
of  spirit.  "  Gird  up  the  loins  of  your 
mind,  be  sober,  and  hope  to  the  end."  It 
needs  diligence  to  maintain  a  serene  and 
strenuous  orthodoxy.  "  Watch  ye  ;  stand 
fast  in  the  faith  ;  quit  you  like  men  ;  be 
strong."  It  needs  diligence  to  maintain  a 
blameless  life.  "  Ye  have  not  yet  resisted 
unto  blood,  striving  against  sin."  It  needs 
diligence  to  lead  a  life  conspicuously  use- 
ful and  God-glorifying.  "  Seeing  we  are 
compassed  about  with  so  great  a  cloud  of 
witnesses  (as  Abel,  and  Enoch,  and  Noah, 
13 


146  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

and  Abraham,  and  Moses),  let  us  lay  aside 
every  weight,  and  the  sin  which  doth  so 
easily  beset  us,  and  let  us  run  with  patience 
the  race  that  is  set  before  us,  looking  unto 
Jesus."  And  it  needs  diligence  to  attain  a 
joyful  welcome  from  Jesus  and  a  full  re- 
ward. "  And  besides  this,  giving  all  dili- 
gence, add  to  your  faith,  virtue  [fortitude]  ; 
and  to  fortitude,  knowledge  ;  and  to  knowl- 
edge, temperance  ;  and  to  temperance,  pa- 
tience ;  and  to  patience,  godliness  ;  and  to 
godliness,  brotherly-kindness  ;  and  to  broth- 
erly kindness,  charity.  Wherefore  the  rath- 
er, brethren,  give  diligence  to  make  your 
calling  and  election  sure ;  for  if  ye  do 
these  things  [fortitude,  &c.]  ye  shall  never 
fall :  for  so  an  entrance  shall  be  ministered 
unto  you  abundantly  into  the  everlasting 
kingdom  of  our  God  and  Savior  Jesus 
Christ." — "  And  I  heard  a  voice  from 
heaven  saying  unto  me.  Write,  Blessed  are 
the  dead  which  die  in  the  Lord  from  hence- 
forth ;  yea,  saith  the  Spirit,  that  they  may 
rest  from  their  labors,  and  their  works  do 


A    WORD    TO    ALL.  147^ 

follow  them." — "  Let  us  labor,  therefore, 
to  enter  into  that  rest."* 

To  labor  in  the  word  and  doctrine  is  the 
business  of  one ;  to  feed  the  flock  of  God 
and  rule  the  church  of  Christ  is  the  busi- 
ness of  others  ;  to  "  serve  tables,"  to  care 
for  and  comfort  the  poor,  and  see  that  all 
things  be  done  decently  and  in  order,  is  the 
business  of  yet  others ;  to  teach  the  young 
and  instruct  the  ignorant  is  the  business  of 
some  ;  and  to  train  up  their  households  in 
the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord  is 
the  business  of  others  ;  to  obey  their  parents 
and  to  grow  in  wisdom — in  favor  with  God 
and  man — is  the  business  of  many ;  and  to 
do  work  for  others,  with  a  willing  hand  and 
a  single  eye,  is  the  business  of  many  more. 
The  work  of  the  day  needs  diligence  :  much 
more  does  the  work  of  eternity.  It  needs 
fervent  diligence  to  be  constantly  serving 
our  fellows  ;  and  it  needs  no  less  diligence 
to  be  directly  serving  Christ.  To  tend  the 
sick,  to  visit  the  widows  and  fatherless  in 
•  2  Pet.  i.  5-7, 10,  11.    Rev.  xiv.  13.    Heb.  iv.  11. 


148  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

their  affliction,  to  frequent  the  abodes  of  in- 
sulated wretchedness  or  congregated  de- 
pravity, to  set  on  foot  schemes  of  Christian 
benevolence,  and,  still  more,  to  keep  them 
going — all  this  needs  diligence.  To  put 
earnestness  into  secret  prayer  ;  to  offer  peti- 
tions so  emphatic  and  express,  that  they  are 
remembered  afterward,  and  the  answer 
watched  for  and  expected  ;  to  commune 
with  one's  own  heart,  so  as  to  attain  some 
real  self-acquaintance  ;  to  get  into  that  hum- 
ble, contrite,  confessing  frame,  where  the 
soul  feels  it  sweet  to  lie  beneath  the  cross, 
and  "  a  debtor  to  mercy  alone,  of  covenant 
mercy  to  sing ;"  to  stir  up  one's  soul  to  a 
thankful  praising  pitch  ;  to  beat  down  mur- 
muring thoughts  and  drive  vexing  thoughts 
away ;  to  get  assurance  regarding  the  foun- 
dations of  the  faith,  and  clear  views  of  the 
truth  itself;  to  have  a  prompt  and  secure 
command  of  Scripture  ;  to  possess  a  large 
acquaintance  with  the  great  salvation,  and  a 
minute  acquaintance  with  all  the  details  of 
Christian  duty — all  this  needs  no  less  dili- 


A    WORD    TO    ALL.  149 

gence  on  our  part,  because  God  must  give 
it  or  we  shall  never  show  it.  To  put  life 
into  family  worship  ;  to  make  it  more  than 
a  duteous  routine  ;  to  make  its  brief  episode 
of  praise,  and  prayer,  and  bible-reading,  a 
refreshful  ordinance,  and  influential  on  the 
day ;  to  give  a  salutary  direction  to  social 
intercourse,  and  season  with  timely  salt  the 
conversation  of  the  friendly  circle  ;  to  drive 
that  "torpid  ass,"*  the  body,  to  scenes  of 
duty  difficult  and  long-adjourned  ;  to  make 
a  real  business  of  public  worship  ;  to  scowl 
away  all  pretexts  for  forsaking  the  solemn 
assembly  ;  to  spirit  the  reluctant  flesh  into  a 
punctual  arrival  at  the  house  of  prayer,  and 
then  to  stir  up  the  soul  to  a  cordial  partici- 
pation in  all  its  services  ;  to  accompany  with 
alert  and  aflectionate  eyes  the  reading  of 
God's  word,  and  listen  with  wakeful  ear  to 
the  exposition  and  application  of  its  lively 
oracles;  to  contribute  a  tuneful  voice  and  a 
singing  heart  to  our  New-Testament  offer- 
ing of  praise,  and  to  put  the  whole  stress 
*  Calvin  m  loco, 

13* 


150  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

of  an  intelligent,  and  sympathizing,  and  be- 
lieving earnestness  into  the  supplications  of 
the  sanctuary,  so  that  each  petition  shall  as- 
cend to  the  throne  of  grace  with  the  delib- 
erate signature  of  our  Amen — all  this  re- 
quires a  diligence,  none  the  less  because 
unless  God  work  it  in  us,  we  shall  never  of 
ourselves  muster  up  sufficient  fervor  thus  to 
serve  the  Lord. 

Dear  brethren  and  Christian  friends,  con- 
sider what  I  say.  There  is  little  time  to 
apply  it ;  but  you  have  heard  from  this  text 
some  hints  of  important  truth — apply  them 
for  yourselves.  As  reasons  why  we  desire 
to  see  a  church  more  industrious  and  not 
less  fervent  and  unworldly  than  the  church 
has  usually  been,  and  as  motives  why  each 
right-hearted  man  among  you  should  this 
night  start  afresh  on  a  career  of  busy  devo- 
tedness  and  fervent  industry,  let  me  remind 
you — 

1.  Herein  is  the  Father  glorified,  that  ye 
bear  much  fruit. 

2.  Herein  will  you  truly  resemble,  and 


CONCLUSION.  151 

in  measure  re-exhibit  the  character  of  your 
blessed  Lord  and  Master. 

3.  Hereby  will  yourselves  be  made  far 
happier. 

4.  Hereby  will  the  world  be  the  better 
for  your  sojourn  in  it. 

5.  Hereby  will  the  sadness  of  your  de- 
parture be  exceedingly  alleviated. 

6.  And  hereby  will  your  everlasting  joy 
be  unspeakabl}"  enhanced. 

Forbearing  to  dwell  on  these  different 
considerations,  let  me  revert  for  a  little  to 
the  latter  two. 

A  life  of  diligence  and  holy  fervor  pre- 
pares the  believer  for  a  peaceful  departure. 
"  Father,  I  have  finished  the  work  which 
thou  gavest  me  to  do  ;  and  now  I  come  to 
thee."  It  was  with  unspeakable  satisfaction 
that  the  Savior  contemplated  his  return  to 
the  Father's  bosom  ;  and  the  reason  was, 
because  he  knew  so  well  that  he  had  fin- 
ished his  Father's  business.  He  could 
look  back  on  the  weary  days  and  sleepless 
nights  of  his  ministry,  on  the  long  years  of 


152  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

his  incarnation  ;  and  he  saw  that  there  was 
no  righteousness  which  he  had  not  fulfilled, 
no  precept  of  the  holy  law  which  he  had 
not  magnified.  His  memory  could  not  re- 
call an  idle  word  or  a  wasted  hour  ;  and 
even  from  the  solemn  twilight  of  Gethsema- 
ne  his  eye  could  trace  serenely  back  the 
whole  expanse  of  his  earthly  history,  and 
see  not  one  word  which  he  would  wish  to 
recall,  not  one  act  which  he  could  desire  to 
alter  ;  no  sermon  which,  if  he  had  to  preach 
it  over  again,  he  would  make  more  plain  or 
more  importunate  ;  no  miracle  which,  if  it 
had  to  be  performed  afresh,  he  would  do  in 
a  more  impressive  or  effectual  manner.  He 
knew  that  there  was  no  omission,  no  defect, 
and  though  the  whole  were  to  be  done  anew, 
he  felt  that  the  words  could  not  be  more 
gracious,  nor  the  works  more  wonderful, 
than  they  had  actually  been.  "  Father,  I 
have  glorified  thee  on  earth.  I  have  finished 
the  work  which  thou  gavest  me  to  do  ;  and 
now  I  come  to  thee."  The  Lord  Jesus 
was  the  first  and  the  last  who  was  ever  able 


CONCLUSION.  153 

to  say  this ;  but  through  his  strength  made 
perfect  in  their  weakness,  some  have  made 
a  nearer  approach  to  this  blessedness  than 
their  more  remiss  and  indolent  brethren.  It 
was  the  grief  of  the  pagan  emperor  Titus, 
when  a  day  transpired  in  which  he  had 
learned  no  knowledge  or  done  no  good — 
"  I  have  lost  a  day  !"     And — 

"  'Tis  a  mournful  story 
Thus  in  the  ear  of  pensive  eve  to  tell 
Of  morning's  firm  resolves  the  vanished  glory, 
Hope's  honey  left  within  the  with'ring  bell. 
And  plants  of  mercy  dead,  that  might  have  bloomed 
so  well  !"* 

But  it  is  a  far  more  mournful  story  when 
the  eve  of  life  arrives,  to  be  constrained  to 
sigh,  "  I  have  lost  a  lifetime  !" — "  God  gave 
me  one  lifetime,  and  it  was  once  in  my  pow- 
er to  spend  it  as  Aquila  and  Priscilla  spent 
theirs — as  Paul  spent  his — as  Phebe  spent 
hers.  But  now,  that  only  life  is  closing, 
and,  wo's  me  !  how  have  I  bestowed  it  ?  In 
making  pin-cushions  and  playing  the  piano 
*  Mrs.  Sigourney. 


154  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

— in  paying  morning  calls  and  evening  vis- 
its."— "  And  7? — I  have  spent  it  in  read- 
ing newspapers  and  novels — in  dancing  and 
singing  songs,  and  telling  diverting  stories." 
— "And. J  have  spent  it  in  drinking  and 
smoking — in  games  of  cards  and  billiards — 
in  frequenting  taverns  and  theatres — in  read- 
ing coarse  tales  and  books  of  blasphemy." 
Yes :  and  though  you  should  not  need  to 
look  back  on  a  life  thus  sinfully  spent,  it 
will  be  sad  enough  to  review  a  life  let  idly 
slip.  To  think  that  by  a  right  starting  and 
a  persevering  continuance  in  well-doing,  it 
was  once  in  your  power  to  have  proved  the 
large  and  permanent  benefactor  of  your  gen- 
eration— to  think  that  had  you  only  begun 
with  the  Lord  and  held  on  in  fervor  of 
spirit,  you  might  by  this  time  have  finished 
works  which  would  make  many  bless  your 
memory,  and  planted  seeds  of  which  hun- 
dreds would  reap  the  pleasant  fruits  when 
yourself  were  in  the  clay ;  and  then  to  re- 
member that  once  on  a  time  you  had  it  in 
contemplation — it  was  all  planned  out  and 


CONCLUSION.  155 

resolved  upon,  and  day-dreamed  over  and 
over,  but  never  resolutely  gone  about— to 
recollect  *'  the  mornlno^'s  firm  resolves"  and 
sunny  purposes,  and  then  look  at — 

"  the  vanished  glory, 
Hope's  honey  left  within  the  with'ring  bell. 
And  plants  of  mercy  dead,  that  might  have  bloomed 
so  well" — 

how  dreary  It  will  make  your  deathbed,  if 
capable  of  deliberate  reflection  then  !  How 
disconsolate  it  will  render  the  retrospective 
evening  of  your  days  should  you  reach  old 
age  !  And  how  different  it  will  make  your 
exit  from  his,  who,  looking  back  on  his 
eventful  career,  could  say,  "  I  am  now  ready 
to  be  offered,  and  the  time  of  my  depart- 
ure is  at  hand.  I  have  fought  a  good  fight, 
I  have  finished  my  course,  I  have  kept  the 
faith.  Henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me 
a  crown  of  righteousness,  which  the  Lord, 
the  righteous  judge,  shall  give  me  at  that 
day." 

A  life  of  Christian  diligence  is  followed 
by  an  abundant  entrance  and  a  full  reward. 


156  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

There  are  two  principles  deep-seated  in  our 
nature :  philosophy  has  got  no  name  for 
them,  but  the  Bible  has  an  eye  to  each  of 
them,  and  the  gospel  speaks  to  both  of 
them.  The  possessions  which  we  chiefly 
prize  are  either  those  which  we  have  earned 
by  our  own  industry,  or  gifts  we  have  got 
from  those  we  truly  love.  Perhaps  there 
is  some  little  slide  in  your  desk,  some  se- 
cret drawer  in  your  cabinet,  which  you  do 
not  often  open — but  when  on  a  quiet  holy- 
day  you  pull  it  gently  out  and  look  leisurely 
at  it,  your  eye  fills  with  tears.  You  read 
the  date  on  the  faded  book-marker  with  a 
pensive  smile,  or  you  press  the  little  picture 
to  your  lips  and  drop  upon  your  knees,  to 
pray  for  him  whose  image  that  httle  picture 
is.  But  a  hard-visaged  stranger  peering 
over  your  shoulder  might  marvel  what  all 
this  emotion  meant ;  for  he  would  not  give 
a  few  shillings  for  the  whole  collection,  and 
would  think  it  liker  the  thing  to  be  affected 
by  the  bunch  of  bank-notes,  and  bills,  and 
government-securities,  in  the  adjacent  lock- 


CONCLUSION  157 

er.  And  why  do  you  prize  it  so  ?  That 
picture  was  a  keepsake  from  your  brother 
when  he  crossed  the  Indian  main  ten  sum- 
mers since  ;  that  broidered  riband  is  the 
only  relic  of  the  sister's  love,  who  made  you 
many  a  like  remembrance,  but  whose  moul- 
dering fingers  will  make  no  more.  Lore 
lingers  in  these  relics,  and  that  is  the  reason 
why,  when  you  stuff  the  bank-notes  in  your 
pocket,  you  clasp  these  trifles  to  your  heart. 
Far  more,  if  the  gift  or  the  bequest  be  one 
of  vast  intrinsic  value.  The  estate,  the 
house,  the  lands,  which  a  fatherly  kinsman 
or  a  dear  friend  conveyed  to  you — you  prize 
them  infinitely  more  than  if  they  had  come 
to  you  in  the  course  of  nature  or  by  the 
laws  of  ordinary  succession.  You  delight 
to  show  people  over  these  grounds  ;  and 
when  they  ask  how  long  they  have  been  in 
your  family,  your  voice  falters  when  you 
tell  how  they  came  to  be  yours.  Sometimes 
when  you  look  over  the  pastures  and  corn- 
fields, the  water  tingles  in  your  eye  ;  for  you 
feel  that  you  are  looking  not  at  vulgar  roods 
14 


158  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

and  common  enclosures,  but  are  gazing  on 
acres  of  affection,  on  an  expanse  of  unac- 
countable kindness.  You  commemorate  the 
unusual  gift  by  the  giver'sname.  By  some 
adjective  of  gratitude  you  connect  it  with  his 
dear  memory ;  and  much  as  you  may  value 
it  for  its  intrinsic  worth,  it  is  more  precious 
still  for  the  beloved  donor's  sake. 

Then  next  to  the  possessions  round  which 
there  hovers  some  symbol  of  living  affection 
or  departed  kindness,  we  prize  those  pos- 
sessions in  which  we  recognise  the  fruits  of 
our  own  diligence,  the  purchase  of  our  own 
pains-taking.  Next  to  the  keepsakes  of 
friendship,  we  delight  in  the  rewards  of  per- 
sonal industry.  What  a  bright  coin  was 
that  first  sovereign  which  your  own  dili- 
gence ever  earned  !  How  sol^d  and  weighty 
did  it  feel  !  How  fair  did  the  monarch's  im- 
age and  superscription  shine  on  its  fresh- 
minted  face,  and  how  endless  did  its  capa- 
bilities appear  !  Was  there  anything  which 
that  wonderful  coin  could  not  accomplish, 
any  object  of  desire  which  it  could  not  pur- 


CONCLUSION.  159 

chase  ?  And  wherefore  such  overweening 
affection  for  that  one  golden  piece,  for  had 
you  pot  possessed  from  time  to  time  pocket- 
money  of  your  own  before  ?  Yes — but  it 
came  too  easily  ;  it  wanted  the  pleasant  zest 
of  industry  ;  it  did  not  bring  into  your  bo- 
som, as  this  one  does,  a  whole  freight  of 
happy  recollections,  frugal  hours,  and  self- 
denying  labors,  condensed  into  one  solid 
equivalent,  one  tangible  memento.  What 
are  the  books  in  your  library  which  you 
chiefly  prize  ?  Next  to  the  gift-bible  which 
solemnized  the  first  birthday  when  you  could 
read  it ;  next  to  the  book  which  your  dying 
friend  lifted  from  his  pillow,  and  with  your 
name  tremulously  inscribed,  handed  you  on 
your  last  visit,  when  he  had  strength  to  do 
it ;  are  they  not  the  books  which  rewarded 
your  blushing  proficiency  at  the  village- 
school,  or  commemorated  your  nightly  la- 
bors in  the  first  and  happiest  years  of  col- 
lege-life, or  those  which  your  long-hoarded 
savings  first  enabled  you  to  purchase  ?  Why 
do  you  look  with  a  kindlier  eye  on  that  ju- 


160  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

venile  literature  than  on  the  long  rows  of 
glittering  learning  and  august  philosophy 
which  fill  your  crowded  shelves?  Why, 
but  because  there  is  something  of  a  pleas- 
ant personal  peculiar  to  them  ?  The  light 
of  early  days  and  industrious  hours  still 
floats  around  them.  They  are  the  sunny 
sepulchre  in  which  much  of  your  former 
self  lies  pleasantly  embalmed,  ready  to  start 
into  a  mellower  life  the  moment  memory 
bids  it.  Or  why — to  take  the  case  already 
supposed,  the  opulent  possessor  of  estates, 
which  the  love  of  another  gave  him — why 
is  it  that  in  the  midst  of  luxuries  and  accom- 
modations as  abundant  as  wealth  can  pur- 
chase or  ingenuity  suggest — why  is  it  that 
fruit  from  trees  of  his  own  planting,  or  from  a 
garden  of  his  own  tending,  tastes  so  sweet  ? 
Why  is  it  that  the  rustic  chair  of  his  own 
contriving,  or  the  telescope  of  his  own  con- 
structing, so  far  surpasses  any  which  the 
craftsman  can  send  him  ?  Why,  the  reason 
is,  those  apples  have  an  aroma  of  industry, 
a  smack  of  self-requiting  diligence  peculiar 


CONCLUSION.  161 

to  themselves.  That  rustic  seat  is  lined 
with  self-complacent  labor,  and  the  pleasant 
consciousness  of  having  made  that  telescope 
himself  has  so  sharpened  the  maker's  eye, 
as  greatly  to  augment  its  magnifying  power. 
God  has  so  made  the  mind  of  man,  that  a 
peculiar  deliciousness  resides  in  the  fruits 
of  personal  industry. 

I  repeat  that  the  possessions  which  we 
chiefly  prize — those  of  which  the  heart 
keeps  the  most  tender  yet  tenacious  hold — 
are  not  the  windfalls  of  fortune,  nor  die  heir- 
looms of  regular  succession,  but  the  gifts 
of  affection  and  the  fruits  of  pains-taking  ; 
those  in  which  something  of  ourself,  or  a 
dearer  than  ourself,  still  lives,  and  speaks, 
and  feels.  Now  in  regard  to  the  supreme 
possession,  the  inheritance  of  heaven,  the 
God  of  Love  has  consulted  both  of  those 
deep-seated  principles  of  the  human  soul. 
The  heaven  itself,  the  passport  through  its 
gates,  and  the  right  to  its  joys,  are  the  pur- 
chase and  the  gift  of  Another.  Nor  is  it  to 
the  believer  the  least  enhancing  element  in 
14* 


162  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

its  priceless  possession  that  it  is  entirely  the 
donation  and  bequest  of  his  dearest  friend. 
Looking  forward  to  the  pearly  gates  and 
golden  streets  of  the  celestial  city,  its  love- 
built  mansions  and  its  life-watered  paradise, 
the  beUever  in  Jesus  delights  to  remember 
that  they  are  purely  the  purchase,  and  as 
purely  the  gift  of  Immanuel.  To  think  that 
he  shall  yet  have  his  happy  home  on  that 
Mount  Zion  ;  that  with  feet  no  longer  sin- 
defiled  he  shall  tread  its  radiant  pavement 
and  stand  on  its  glassy  sea  ;  that  with  fin- 
gers no  longer  aw^kward  he  shall  tell  the 
harps  of  heaven  what  once  he  was  and  who 
made  him  what  he  is  ;  that  with  a  voice  no 
longer  trembling  he  shall  transmit  along  the 
echoes  of  eternity  the  song  of  Moses  and 
the  Lamb  ;  that  his  shall  yet  be  a  brow  on 
which  the  drops  of  toil  will  never  burst,  and 
an  eye  which  tears  will  never  dim  ;  that  he 
himself  shall  wear  a  form  that  years  shall 
never  bend,  and  a  countenance  which  grief 
can  never  mar  ;  that  his  shall  yet  be  a  char- 
acter on  which  the  stains  of  time  will  leave 


CONCLUSION.  163 

no  trace,  and  his  a  conscience*  pure  enough 
to  reflect  the  full  image  of  Him  who  sits  upon 
the  throne — the  thought  of  all  this  is  amaze- 
ment, ecstasy.  But  there  is  one  thought 
more  which  puts  the  crown  upon  this  bles- 
sedness— the  climax  on  this  joy  : — 

"  These  glorious  hopes  we  owe  to  Jesus'  dying  love." 

The  name  of  this  fair  inheritance — Free 
Grace,  God  is  love,  Jehovah-Tsidkenu — 
identifies  it  with  that  name  which  the  be- 
liever loves  beyond  all  others.  Heaven  is 
doubly  dear,  as  the  heritage  purchased  for 
him  by  his  Divine  Redeemer ;  and  all  its 
glory  is  so  heightened  and  solemnized, 
when  he  connects  it  with  that  adorable 
Friend  who  acquired  it  for  him  and  conveys 
it  to  him,  that  though  another  heaven  were 
in  his  offer,  that  other  he  would  not  accept. 
That  heaven  to  which  Immanuel  is  the  liv- 
ing way — on  whose  earthward  entrance  ato- 
ning blood  is  sprinkled,  on  whose  many 
mansions  and  amaranth  crowns  are  the  sym- 
bols which  connect  them  with  Calvary,  and 


164  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

amid  all  whose  countless  joys  the  river  of 
deepest  pleasure  is  the  love  of  Jesus — this 
is  the  only  heaven  to  which  the  believer  ex- 
pects an  entrance,  and  is  the  one  of  which 
his  intensest  longings  say,  "  Would  God 
that  I  were  there  !" 

But  even  in  this  purchased  possession 
there  are  ingredients  of  delight  of  an  origin 
more  personal  to  the  believer  himself — de- 
tails of  special  blessedness,  for  the  germe  of 
which  he  must  go  back  to  his  own  earthly 
history  ;  and  just  as  the  sweetest  surprisals 
here  below  are  those  in  which  some  effort 
of  benevolence  long  bygone  reverts  upon 
you  in  its  happy  results — when  you  meet  a 
stranger,  and  are  charmed  with  his  Christian 
intelligence  and  spiritual  congeniality,  and 
lo  !  it  turns  out  that  his  religious  history 
dates  from  a  casual  conversation  with  your- 
self in  the  guest-chamber  or  the  public  con- 
veyance ;  or  when  you  take  refuge  from  the 
storm  in  a  wayside  cottage,  and  surveying 
with  eager  interest  its  arrangements  of  un- 
wonted comfort  and  tastefulness,  or  listen- 


CONCLUSION.  165 

ing  to  the  bible-lesson  of  its  little  children 
fresh  from  school,  mysterious  hints  of  some 
similar  yet  different  scene  steal  in  upon  your 
memory,  till  you  begin  to  think,  "  I  have 
surely  been  here  before  ;"  and  anon  the  full 
truth  flashes  out :  you  have  been  there  be- 
fore, when  it  was  a  very  different  scene — 
when  a  drunken  husband,  and  ragged  chil- 
dren, and  broken  furniture,  aroused  your 
desponding  commiseration  ;  but  the  tract 
which  you  that  day  left  has  introduced  so- 
briety, and  a  sabbath,  and  a  family-bible, 
into  that  abject  home,  and  made  it  what 
your  grateful  eyes  now  see — so  the  sweetest 
surprisals  of  eternity  will  be  similar  resur- 
rections of  the  works  of  time.  When  the 
disciple  has  forgotten  the  labor  of  love,  he 
will  be  reminded  of  it  in  the  rich  reward ; 
and  though  he  never  thought  any  more  of 
the  cup  of  cold  water  which  he  gave,  or  the 
word  in  season  which  he  spake  in  Jesus's 
name — though  he  made  no  memorandum 
of  the  visits  of  mercy  which  he  paid,  or  the 
asylums  which  he  found  for  tl^p  orphan  and 


166  LIFE    IN    EARNEST. 

the  outcast — it  seems  that  they  are  regis- 
tered in  the  book  of  remembrance,  and  will 
all  be  read  by  their  happy  author  in  the  re- 
viving light  of  glory.*  To  find  the  marvel- 
lous results  which  have  accrued  from  feeble 
means — to  encounter  higher  in  salvation 
than  yourself  those  of  whose  salvation  you 
scarcely  ever  hoped  to  hear,  and  learn  that 
an  entreaty,  or  prayer,  or  forgotten  effort  of 
your  own,  had  a  divine  bearing  on  the  joy- 
ful consummation — to  find  the  prosperous 
fruit  already  growing  on  the  shores  of  eter- 
nity from  seeds  which  you  scattered  on  the 
streams  of  time — with  what  discoveries  of 
unexpected  delight  it  will  variegate  the  joys 
of  the  purchased  possession,  and  with  what 
accessions  of  adoration  and  praise  it  will 
augment  the  exceeding  weight  of  glory  !  Oh 
brethren  !  strive  to  obtain  an  abundant  en- 
trance and  a  full  reward.  Seek  to  be  so 
useful,  that  the  world  will  miss  you  when 
away  :  or  whether  this  world  miss  you  or 
not,  that  in  a  better  world  there  may  be 
•  Dan.  xii.  20^  Matt.  xxv.  34-40  j  Matt.  x.  42. 


CONCLUSION.  167 

many  to  welcome  you  as  you  enter  it,  and 
many  to  follow  you  when  you  have  long 
been  there.  And  above  all,  so  live  for 
Christ,  so  travail  in  his  service,  that  when 
you  fall  asleep,  a  voice  may  be  heard  from 
heaven,  saying,  "  Blessed  are  the  dead 
which  die  in  the  Lord  :  yea,  saith  the 
Spirit,  that  they  may  rest  from  their  la- 
bors, and  their  works  do  follow  them." 


THE    END. 


